Is This The Real Me?
by ncsupnatfan
Summary: It begins with a fight between father and son, one leaving and a kidnapping. Sam's entire world is turned upside down and he has to make some hard decisions. Will he ever see his family again? This is the first story in the Sam's Power trilogy. Suspense, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Angst
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello my dear readers. Are you ready for another journey with the Winchester brothers? This is an AU I have created to go in a different direction than cannon. This AU will span three stories. There will be familiar faces throughout. It will be a roller coaster ride so buckle up and hang on. The journey is about to being. I do like to know your thoughts; reviews would be great. NC**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own SPN and this story is my own creation. Any errors are my own.**

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**Chapter 1**

Sam could feel the rage boiling off his father as he shoved his meager belongings into his duffle. He had just had a massive fight with him about leaving for college. He had worked hard in school and won a scholarship to Stanford University in California. Most fathers would be proud of this achievement, but all John could see was he was abandoning his family. He was giving up on their mission to avenge their mother's death.

John was so obsessed with finding the yellow eyed demon that killed Mary, that he never saw how it affected either of his sons. Dean, the oldest, followed in his father's footsteps and was becoming a damn good hunter. It was in his blood and genes. Unlike Sam, who wanted more out of life than hunting. He wanted to have a normal life outside of hunting and had worked hard on achieving that. He was always a good student in school even though they moved around all the time chasing one hunt after another or a lead on the demon. Sam had always made it work somehow. He stayed up late at night doing homework in the bathroom or in the car, wherever he could. All his hard work had paid off in the end, and he wasn't going to pass this once in a lifetime opportunity by.

"I can't believe you're leaving me; you're leaving your brother," John growled at him as he fisted his hands trying to control his temper and hoping by adding Dean into the mix Sam would come to his senses.

Sam bowed his head with his last words and felt the anguish and pain of them. He was leaving Dean and now he wished he had told him about his plans. Maybe he could have convinced Dean to come with him? But he dropped that thought knowing Dean was loyal to their father and wouldn't leave him.

"Can't you be proud of me for once? I tried so hard over the years to make you proud of me, but it was never enough. I never could live up to your expectations!" Sam spouted. "Not many people can get a free ride at a college like Stanford. I worked my ass off getting this scholarship. I'm not giving this up."

"You know you're abandoning your family here Sam," John said anger flashing in his eyes that his youngest would do something like this. "How's going to college going to help us find the demon that killed your mother? Or have you forgot about that?"

"No, I've not Dad. I'm just going to college," Sam tried to explain. "That is your mission, not mine. Hell, I wouldn't even know what Mom looked like if it wasn't for the few photos you have. Neither of you will talk about her. She's a stranger to me since I was so young when she died. I don't have a connection to her like you and Dean. She's gone and she's not coming back, no matter what you do."

John couldn't help himself as he slapped his youngest son's face, already regretting it as he saw the red mark begin to appear, marring his cheek. "Don't talk about your mother like that," he hissed.

Sam looked to his brother who was sitting on his bed remaining silent during the fight and still didn't say anything even after John slapped him. He could see the hurt in his eyes before he looked away and knew it was because he never told him about applying to college. There was a strong bond between them that had been there all their lives. Dean had pretty much raised him when their mother was killed by the demon. He was more of a father to him that their own father had been. His gut clenched knowing how much he had hurt and wounded his brother. "You never listened to me growing up. You never understood that I didn't want to hunt for the rest of my life. I want more, I want to make something of myself. I can still help others, just in a different way," Sam tried to explain.

"If you walk out that door…Don't ever bother coming back," John sneered. "You're not part of this family anymore." He turned his back on his youngest son, not able to look at him anymore.

Sam stiffened with those words, and he couldn't stop his eyes filling with tears. He squared his shoulders and grabbed his duffle and computer bag before heading for the door. He only paused for a moment thinking Dean would say something, but when he didn't; Sam opened the door and left without a backwards glance. If he had looked back, he would have seen the tears that trickled down Dean's face when he got up to follow but stopped at the door. His legs were weak and barely supporting him as he gazed into the darkness watching his brother walk away from them.

John swore loudly before grabbing up a glass and throwing it at the wall, to splinter and fall to the floor. He wiped a hand down his face but didn't allow the tears to fall before snagging a bottle of whiskey and dropping into a chair at the table. He didn't bother with a glass as he downed several large swallows before stopping to get a breath. He never even looked to his eldest as he stumbled to the bathroom to be alone with his grief.

Once the bathroom door closed, Dean leaned back against it as his chest ached because he was holding in his emotions. He pulled a towel down and pressed it to his face to muffle the sobs that came out. Seeing his little brother walk out that door tore a hole in his soul that he didn't think would ever heal. His breathing was coming in short, sharp gasps while he bit down on the towel as he slid down to the floor to sit. Dean wanted to say something. He wanted to tell him not to go or at least to be careful and stay in touch, but none of those words came out. It was like his mind froze and wouldn't cooperate with what he needed to say.

It seemed the past couple of years Sam and their father butted heads over nearly everything. He hated to admit it, but Dean could understand why Sam wanted to leave. His father could be stubborn and unyielding, and he knew that was what pushed Sam away. Sam didn't see the world like he did, or their father's need for revenge that he had been seeking all these years.

After his tears dried, Dean finally got up and went to the sink to wash his face and decide what to do. He wanted to go after his brother, but he felt an obligation to their father too. He knew he was getting drunk in the other room and was probably regretting the words he spewed at Sam. He dried his face and prepared himself to head back into the other room. Dean opened the door and stepped out to find John had finished most of the whiskey that was in the bottle and was slumped in the chair, barely conscious.

"C'mon Dad, let's get you to bed," Dean mumbled moving to help John up and steered him to a bed. He let him drop to the mattress and lifted his legs up as John's head fell to the pillow. "You shouldn't have said that to Sammy. He'll always be my little brother and part of this family." He was too drunk to argue and was almost asleep before Dean got his boots off and tossed a blanket over his body. "Sleep it off."

He left his father passed out in bed and went to the table and poured the last of the whiskey into a cup before downing it in one swallow. He winced as the amber liquid burned down his throat and thought of his brother. Dean wanted to go after him. He wanted to tell him he was proud of him for what he had accomplished with the way they had been raised. Hell, he would have taken him to Stanford, but didn't think Sam would allow it. He was breaking free of their father's obsession and trying to find normal. He would give him some time to settle and if Sam hadn't called him, he would take the first step and try and contact him. Dean wanted to be sure he had what he needed, and things were okay with him. With a heavy heart, Dean shuffled to the other bedroom and stretched out on his bed. He couldn't stop his eyes from wandering to the empty bed and fought the tears that filled his eyes.

**spn**

Sam waited until he was outside and walking across the parking lot before he let out the sobs he had been holding inside. His eyes blurred and he had to wipe them to see. He was going to head to the bus station and see when the next one heading west would be leaving. Sam had been saving all the money he could over the past few years and hoped he could get a few semesters finished before having to find a part time job. He knew the scholarship wasn't going to pay for everything he would need. He knew he would have to stay in the dorms on campus and he would have meal tickets for food, but there were other things that he would need for classes.

It was dark and the lights from the cars behind him lit his way as he started walking down the sidewalk. His heart was heavy, and he felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind because he wasn't only leaving his father, but he was leaving his big brother. That hurt more than anything John could have said to him and he hoped Dean would forgive him someday for this. Sam pulled his jacket tighter around his body and zipped it against the cool breeze hitting him in the face. He had made his decision and wasn't changing it.

The lights of the bus station loomed ahead of him after thirty minutes of walking. Sam quickened his steps, his eyes focused on the station and not on his surroundings. This was it; he would get a ticket on the first bus heading west and begin a new life without monsters and hunts and crummy, rundown, motel rooms. He could let himself be normal like all the other college students on campus.

Sam walked into the station and checked the schedule before going to the ticket booth to buy a ticket. He was going to have an hour wait before the bus arrived bound for California. There would be plenty of stops along the way, but he could handle that. He had learned patience growing up and to not fret the small things.

The night was filled with sounds of buses coming and going and people milling around waiting. He wandered down to the end of the boardwalk and found a seat away from the crowds. Now that the first step had been taken, Sam felt some relief, but he looked out into the night looking for the lights and listening for that familiar growl of the engine in hopes his brother would come after him; if only to say goodbye. He should have said goodbye at least, but now it was too late.

Sam decided to call Dean once he got to Stanford and registered. He wanted to let him know that he wasn't leaving him and hoped he would visit if he was close. Sam didn't want to lose touch with his brother over this and he hoped Dean felt the same way. He couldn't see a life without his brother in it. He was already missing him and his overbearing big brother ways. He had always looked out for him when they were growing up and kept him safe. Dean was what held their family together and was the mediator between him and their father.

He never saw the van that was driving slowly toward him and stopped at the end of the boardwalk. His senses suddenly began to throw red flags, but before he could turn and defend himself, someone stepped from the van and swung a club to knock Sam out. He was quickly thrown in the van through the side door and it drove off before anyone was the wiser.

The kidnappers quickly rifled through his pockets to remove his cell and any weapons he was carrying. His cell was destroyed, and his hands were zip tied behind his back. Sam's limp body rolled back and forth as the van took the curves heading out of the town. Silence filled the interior of the vehicle, none of the occupants seeing any need for small talk. They didn't want to anger their boss by being late to the rendezvous point. None were given more information than to nab Sam Winchester, and not to hurt him. He was someone their boss needed but none knew the details why and knew better than to question it. The kidnapping went smoother than expected since he was alone and not with his brother or father. They had been prepared to kill both of them to get Sam Winchester, but no blood had to be shed and that was a pity. The kidnappers wouldn't have minded a good fight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Consciousness came slowly to Sam and he moaned softly as he rolled his head and winced in pain. He raised his hand and found a tender spot on the side of his head but luckily no blood. He worked on getting his eyes opened and focused, trying to remember what had happened. There had been a huge fight between him, and his Dad and he left heading for the bus station. He was sure he had bought a ticket, but then things went fuzzy after that. One thing was sure, he didn't make his bus.

He slowly raised his head from the pillow and tried to see where he was. The room was dark except for a night light mounted on the wall across the room that barely gave off any light. There were no windows and only one door in and out. The walls seemed to be made of cinder block and painted a dull tan color from what he could see. He was laying on a cot with a thin mattress and there didn't seem to be anything else in the room except for a commode/sink combo sitting in the corner. It looked like what prisons had in the cells for the inmates. This room looked exactly like a cell but with no bars. He sat up and heard a rattle at his feet. Upon further inspection, Sam found a chain locked around his ankle and it ended in a hook that was attached to the wall. He gave it a tug to find it secure and wouldn't be easy to remove without proper tools.

He moved to the sink and turned the water on, letting it run for a moment before cupping his hand and catching some to drink. His mouth was dry and felt like it was full of cotton and wondered if he had been drugged. The water tasted off, sort of chemically, but he grimaced and swallowed it anyway. He guessed it was better than nothing.

Sam let his eyes roam the room again and got up to see he could reach the commode/sink but not the door. He had no inkling where he was, how long he had been out, who had taken him or their agenda for him. He rubbed his temples since his head was still pounding from being struck and decided to lay back down since he couldn't do anything else right now. He was going to have to wait for someone to come to him. Sam was pissed that they even took his watch from him, so he didn't know the time and without windows, if it was night or day.

His mind drifted back to the fight and the hurtful, cruel, upsetting words his father yelled at him. He fingered his cheek where he had been slapped and couldn't stop the tears that wet his eyes as he threw an arm over his face and tried to stem his emotions. Now was not the time to fall apart. He was going to have to keep a level head and look at his situation in a logical way if he was going to get out of this.

What was worse, was neither John nor Dean would know he had been taken. They would think he was on his way to Stanford and not be the wiser. He didn't know how long it would be before they even noticed he didn't make it to college. That is, if they would. Sam didn't think either would have been paying him a visit any time soon. He was going to have to rely on his wits and knowledge to get himself out of this mess. Sam tried to relax in hopes his head would stop hurting and he could maybe catch a nap. His body was telling him it needed some rest and he wanted to be at the top of his game when whoever took him came back.

**spn **

Harsh, florescent lights came on overhead and blinded Sam as he jerked awake and sat up in bed. He looked toward the door when it rattled and was opened by a large, stern looking man dressed in a suit. He seemed out of place in this boring, lackluster, dismal cell. He stepped far enough into the room and toward Sam to sit a tray on the floor near the bed. He turned on his heels and left without saying a word to him or even looking at him.

"Hey, where am I?" Sam called to him, trying to get his attention, but he was gone before he could say more.

After the door closed and he heard it being locked, Sam moved to pick the tray up and found two bottles of water, apples, yogurt, and granola bars. He sat down on the bed and opened a cold water, guzzling down half the bottle to quench his thirst before stopping. The coolness and taste were much better than the water from the faucet. He studied the food carefully to see if it had been tampered with before picking up the yogurt and a plastic spoon. He tore the lid off and spooned out some to eat. Now that the lights were on, Sam looked around the room again to see if he spotted anything that could be useful to him. Nothing stood out and he sighed to himself. He also searched for any cameras but couldn't spot any or they were very well hidden from the naked eye.

After eating his yogurt and sipping a little more water, Sam got up and moved to the length of the chain and walked along the wall, letting his hand trail over the cold cinder blocks searching for any flaw. He couldn't reach the door with the chain on his ankle and didn't bother trying. He knew pulling on the chain would just injure his ankle and he didn't want that.

Sam put back an apple and granola bar in case he didn't get anything else to eat. He went to the commode and relieved himself before washing his face and hands and drying them. He grumbled when he almost tripped over the chain coming off his ankle and went back to the bed to sit back down. He was already bored after only this short time and wished the kidnappers would show themselves so he would know what was going on. Sam had been rolling things around in his head trying to work out who would take him and why. He questioned if his kidnappers were human or supernatural and tried to devise a way to find out.

Nothing made sense to Sam. He couldn't think of anyone who would have a grudge against him to want to do this. His mind turned to his father and wondered if John had pissed someone off and they were getting their revenge by taking him. He didn't think Dean would have done anything bad enough to warrant this so Sam was back to square one with suspects.

After positioning the uncomfortable pillow against the wall, Sam settled down on the cot to wait, since there was nothing else he could do. He opened a granola bar and slowly munched on it and sipped the remainder of the water from the bottle he had opened earlier. There was no trash can in the room, so he dropped his trash on the tray and pushed it toward the door. He didn't feel like making the place into a dump since he didn't know how long he was going to be there.

Minutes ticked into hours as Sam got up and walked as far as the chain would let him. He paced back and forth for a while, counting the steps for something to do before sitting back down on the bed. He had fiddled with the chain around his ankle, tried taking off his boot and sock and pulling his jeans leg up but that only allowed the chain to rub his skin around his ankle, so he worked the jeans back between it and his skin and put back on his sock. He didn't want to rub it raw or get it infected. He had pulled off his other boot to be more comfort and stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his head. Sam tried to estimate the time in his head as it passed slowly around him.

Noise at the door had him sitting up and staring at it as it was opened again, and the same man stepped in. He had another tray and sat it on the floor and removed the other.

"Why am I here?" Sam asked. "What do you want with me?"

The man paid no attention to him or his questions as he went back out and locked the door behind him. Sam huffed in anger that he was being ignored and went to pick up the new tray. He caught a whiff of the food and his stomach growled in protest at not being fed. He found a large sub, a small container of potato salad and a bottle of tea on the tray.

Not thinking about the food being drugged, Sam quickly unwrapped the sandwich and took a large bite enjoying the taste of it. He was being fed, so it seemed they wanted to keep him alive. He guessed that was a good thing for now at least. Sam continued to eat the sub even though it had more mayo than he really liked and tasted the potato salad deciding it was eatable. At this point he couldn't be picky about what was given to him to eat. He needed to keep his strength up so he could try and escape.

Sam had finished eating and was washing up when the lights went out, he guessed signaling it was time to sleep. He moved back to the cot and adjusted the chain before laying down hoping tomorrow would bring him some answers. It was hard to get to sleep but when he did, his mind was filled with dreams of the fight he'd had with his Dad and leaving not only him but his brother.

Something evil lured just on the outskirts of his vision as he walked toward the lights of the bus station. He tried to run but the shadows jumped out at him and drug him down. Sam cried out in his sleep and sat up panting from the nightmare. He looked around the room and saw his nightmare had not ended with him waking up. He settled back onto the cot and tried to will his mind to calm and to stop the racing thoughts running through it. There had to be a way for him to get free. He needed to be patient and bide his time and when he saw an opening, he needed to act fast and take it. With that in mind, he drifted back to sleep.

Time pasted; how much Sam didn't know but he had eaten all the food brought to him. He used one of the empty bottles to fill at the sink so he would at least have water to drink. The lights went on and off, but he didn't know if it was like every twelve hours or eight hours or if there was even any kind of schedule. His stomach growled with hunger and he tried to ignore it by drinking more water. He wondered if they forgot about him or if they were leaving him to die chained in this room all alone.

He looked hopefully to the door as it was opened, and the same serious looking man sat another tray down and took the other away. He never made eye contact with Sam or acknowledged him in anyway. He picked up the tray and found breakfast sandwiches, carton of milk, a banana and apple and three bottles of water. Sam's mouth watered as he unwrapped a sandwich and got a whiff of it. This was not what he would usually have for breakfast, but he wasn't going to complain. He sighed in contentment as he bit off a bite and chewed it slowly. He swallowed and took another, eating faster until it was gone. He felt his stomach clench for a moment as the food settled.

After finishing one sandwich, he drunk part of the milk and waited to be sure the food was going to stay down before opening the second one and eating it slower this time. Sam finished the milk and sat back, burping loudly, but he didn't care. He was just glad to have gotten some food and hoped maybe it would come more often now. He saved what was left for later and took a seat back on the cot and stared at the wall in front of him. He had counted the blocks along the wall a dozen times now and it was starting to get boring. He tried to use his mind to make the time pass faster, going over hunts, plans, books he had read, anything to keep from going crazy.

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**A/N: Sam is at a lost to why he was kidnapped. Nothing makes sense to him and he wasn't learning anything from the goon who brought the food. Things will be explained soon. Thank you for following, favoring and reviewing. I do like to know your thoughts, please review. NC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: We find out what Dean is doing now that Sam is gone. Thank you for deciding to take this journey with me. I hope you enjoy this AU I created. Reviews are great. NC**

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**Chapter 3**

After the shock of what just happened wore off, Dean tried to sleep, but it wouldn't come. His rage was building from what John had done and said to Sam. He knew he was completely obsessed with finding the demon that killed their Mom, but he had gone too far this time. Dean knew he still loved them, but sometimes he could be so blind that he couldn't see what was right in front of him. He had a son accepted to freakin' Stanford of all places, and he should have been bursting with pride, but all he could see was he was losing a soldier in his need for his revenge.

Dean rolled over and wondered if he drove to the bus station if Sam would still be there. He knew there would be no talking Sam out of doing this since when he set his mind to something, he wouldn't stop until he accomplished it. He was as stubborn as their father, if not more. And what was funny was neither one of them would admit how alike they were. He thought that was why they butted heads so much and were at odds with each other all the time. Sometimes, he was so tried of playing referee for the two of them and just wanted to leave it all behind.

Going would at least give him a chance to say goodbye to Sam and wish him luck. He wasn't sure how he would greet him, because he didn't stand up to their father for Sam like he had done in the past or stop him from kicking Sam out of their lives. He looked at the clock and saw several hours had passed, but he couldn't lay there any longer and got up to grab his keys for the Impala before heading out the door. He didn't know anything about bus schedules but maybe he would be lucky, and the one Sam would want hadn't left yet.

Dean pulled up to the bus station and got out. He looked around at the milling people searching for his tall brother's shaggy head. Not seeing him anywhere outside, Dean headed inside to see if he was there. He stepped to the ticket booth to see when the last bus heading west went out. His shoulders slumped when he was told it had left fifteen minutes ago but there was another one leaving in six hours if he wanted a ticket. He thanked the attendant, and with a heavy heart headed back to the car. He was too late; Sammy was gone now, and he never got to say goodbye or tell him he was proud of him. He was amazed that he had been able to get a free ride to Stanford with the way they moved around from one place to another, never staying long enough for them to finish a school year in one place. It was a great achievement for him where Dean dropped out of high school at sixteen to start hunting full time. He was able to do online classes and get his GED a couple of years ago.

He pulled his cell from his jacket and opened his contact list. He scrolled through the names until he came to the letter S and let his finger hover over it. If the bus only left fifteen minutes ago, he knew Sammy wouldn't be asleep yet and he could talk to him. Doubt invaded his thoughts making him wonder if Sam would even pick up when he saw the caller id. He was sure Sam was hurt, mad, and upset by what John had said and what Dean didn't do, so he decided to give him a little space for now. He closed the cell and shoved it back into his jacket pocket before cranking the Impala and driving away, none the wiser of what had really happened to Sam.

The motel parking lot loomed ahead of him and he slowed to pull into it and to the back to park beside his father's truck. Mixed emotions swirled through his mind as he sat there not sure what to do. He was so enraged at his Dad that he didn't know if he could face him without taking a punch at him. At this moment, the only thing he wanted to do was knock him flat on his ass and tell him what a bad father he was. He knew things had been hard for them growing up and he knew that John tried, but this was unforgiveable.

With his mind made up, he got out and went inside to pack. He needed to get away from him to think and to let his anger settle. Dean went to the door of the bedroom and looked in at his drunk, unconscious father one more time before scribbling a note to stick under the empty whiskey bottle. All it said was he couldn't be around him right now but if he needed backup on a hunt to call. Dean picked up his bags and headed to the Impala, tossing them in the back and leaving. He would hunt on his own for a while and once he had given Sammy time to settle, he would contact him. Dean wanted to be sure Sam knew that what their father had said was not what he felt and wanted to be sure he knew if he needed anything to call him. He was not shutting Sammy out of his life no matter what his father said or did.

**spn**

Dean pulled into the familiar surroundings of Singer Salvage Yard and eased the car to the front of the house. He sat there a moment looking at the place before noticing the owner coming from a garage bay at the side of the house wiping his hands on a rag. He got out and strolled toward the older hunter, mentor, and friend not sure what to say.

"Dean," Bobby greeted him as he looked past him to see he was alone. It had been awhile since he had seen any of the Winchesters and only spoken to them over the phone when they needed some research done. Dean by himself was not a good sign.

"Hey Bobby," Dean replied as he stopped in front of him and scuffed at the dirt with the toe of his boot.

"So, he did it," Bobby grunted when Dean didn't say anything else or look at him.

"How'd you…." Dean started as shock and anger flashed in his eyes.

"Sam used my place as a mailing address since he needed a place for the application."

"And you didn't think that was something I should know?" Dean yelled.

"Watch that tone with me boy!" Bobby growled at him. "Remember who ya talkin' to."

"Sorry Bobby, it's just I don't understand why he didn't tell me," Dean sighed as he hung his head in shame at yelling at him.

"What would you have done? Stop him? Tell yer Daddy so he could stop him? Sam wanted out and I'm glad he got it," Bobby responded. "That boy never liked the life no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He's not like you or me, we thrive on it. It's in our blood."

"Yeah, I know you're right."

"Where's yer Daddy?"

"I left him in a motel, sleeping it off. I couldn't stay with him. Not after what he did."

"What did he do?"

"He told Sammy if he left to not ever come back. He said he wasn't family anymore," Dean said in a small voice that cracked at the end. He pushed back the sob before going on. "What's worse is I did anything to stop him. I just sat there like a damn fool and let it happen. I'm the worse brother…"

"No Dean, you're not. It was a shock to you, and you didn't know how to deal with it."

"I didn't even tell him goodbye or that I was so proud of him," he whispered. "I went to the bus station, but I waited too long, and he was already gone."

"Well that don't mean you can't visit or call him. C'mon, I think you need a shot or two," Bobby said throwing an arm around his shoulders and steering him for the house. The Winchester boys were like the sons he never had, and it pained him to see one hurting this much. He never thought when he first met them that they could worm their way into his ice, cold heart but they did, and they melted it. He was proud to have been a part of raising them, though he wished he could have had more influence and maybe Dean might have headed off to college too. Even though Dean tried to hide it, Bobby knew he was just as smart as Sam, maybe even smarter in some things. The problem with Dean was that he had to grow up too fast and ended up being a father, mother, brother and protector for his little brother and never got the chance to be a kid or to have his own life. Bobby couldn't help but admit that Dean was a natural born hunter and becoming one of the best he had seen. He was loyal to a fault to his father and his only weakness was his love for his little brother.

"Think I can bunk out here for a few days until I can find a hunt?" Dean asked as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Of course, stay as long as you need. You're always welcome here son," Bobby replied pulling two glasses from the strainer and a bottle of Jack Daniels from the cabinet.

"Maybe I'll give my Baby a once over and do an oil change."

"I've got a couple of cars out there I could use some help on if you're willing."

"Sure, anything I can do to help," Dean said perking up some. Working on cars was a passion of his and he enjoyed getting his hands dirty, plus maybe it would take his mind off his brother for a little while. He needed the distraction and after a few days if he didn't find a hunt, maybe he'd head west.

"Don't beat yourself up about this Dean. I think you knew it was going to happen; that Sam was going to try and get out of the life. I saw it and you did too, but you didn't want to admit it." He poured two glasses of whiskey and pushed one in front of Dean.

"Yeah, you're right," Dean huffed picking up the glass and swirling the amber liquid around in it. He looked deep into the bottom of the glass for a moment as memories surfaced and pushed them away. With one quick swallow, he downed the contents and coughed lightly as it burned his throat. What Bobby said was right, Sam wasn't cut out to be a hunter no matter how hard their father pushed him to be. His mind was made up, he'd stay with Bobby for a few days and help him in the garage and then head west. He'd look for any hunts along the way, but he was going to see his brother and clear the air.

He was not cutting him out of his life no matter what their Dad said, and he needed Sam to know that.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you to all who are taking this journey with me. We find out more about Sam and his captors now. I think some of you may have guessed who kidnapped him, but I won't spoil it. I hope you enjoy the read and will explore this AU with me. As always, I do like to know your thoughts, please review. NC**

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**Chapter 3**

A new day must have started since another tray with food was brought to him and it seemed more breakfast food. Sam tried to engage in conversation again, but the man wouldn't speak. He wouldn't even look at Sam or acknowledge him in any way. It had been the same one again and he saw no others in the hall when the door was opened.

This was starting to get on his nerves, and he was going stir crazy being trapped in this windowless room with nothing to do but stare at the walls. By now he knew every square inch of the place and how many blocks made up each wall and how many steps it was from one end to the other. He had always considered himself the one with the most patience between him and Dean. But this, being cut off from everything was unbearable. He needed a shower, clean clothes, fresh air and some sunshine. If their intentions were to drive him crazy; they were doing a good job of it.

"Hey! If I'm going to be kept in here how 'bout something to read or crossword puzzle book?" Sam asked when the man brought another tray of food. "Or better yet, let me go or tell who ever took me I want to talk to them." He didn't get any response from the man as he picked up the other tray and turned to leave. Sam was angry at being ignored and picked up an empty water bottle to throw at him. It hit him on the shoulder, and made him paused for a moment, but didn't acknowledge Sam.

Sam ate what was brought to him and paced the length of the chain. He had tried several times to loosen the cuff from around his ankle and then the wall with no luck. It was not coming off without the key and he had sworn under his breath. He estimated that he had been in this room maybe a week or more from the growth of his beard and trays of different foods brought to him.

Sam began to exercise as much as he could being chained, trying to keep his body limber and fit. He was starting to feel gross and the air in the room was getting stale since there wasn't much circulation. Sam wasn't sure asking again would help any, but he was going to try when the next food came.

Hours ticked by and his stomach was telling him it was time for more food, and he watched the door listening for any sounds that would alert him the man was back. His leg began to bounce as more time passed and still no one came. His stomach growled loudly making him rub it and suck it in. He went to the sink and drank some water hoping anything would help.

"Anyone out there?" Sam yelled as loud as he could. "Did you forget me?" His voice trailed off at the end of the statement wondering if he was being punished for throwing the water bottle or was this it. He wasn't starving at least, but he was only getting enough food to keep him going. He looked up when the lights went out plunging him into almost darkness. The nightlight came on giving out its feeble glow and casting the room into shadows.

With a mad huff, Sam slammed a fist into the wall in frustration. He hoped there was nothing broken as he carefully flexed it and rubbed his sore knuckles. Guess he was expected to behave if he was going to be fed. He closed his eyes and tried not the think about it. What if there was no more food? Maybe whoever took him had gotten what they wanted and didn't need him anymore. So many bad thoughts rolled around in his mind that it made it hard for him to sleep. He tried to push them aside and tried to cling to the hope he would be saved and this nightmare would be over. Morning would be here soon enough, and he hoped maybe some food or a face to face with whoever took him.

**spn**

When the lights came back on the next day, Sam rolled over on the cot and covered his face. He had no desires to get up to start the day. He had no reason to move off the cot. He had passed depression by now and was moving toward listlessness. Being isolated with no contact from anyone but this meal deliverer was getting to him.

He pushed his greasy hair from his face and only got up because he needed to pee. Sam was glad there was no mirror in the room because he didn't want to see how bad he probably looked. He had become immune from the smell of his own body odor by now, so that didn't bother him. He washed his face and dried it before returning to the cot for another day alone, and maybe without any food.

Noises at the door caught his attention, but Sam didn't bother to get up or even look that way when the creak of the door opening sounded through the room. It wasn't until his wrists were suddenly grabbed and pulled behind him that he tried to fight to get away. He was punched in the gut, expelling all the air from his lungs and he looked up with hatred at the two, black eyed meatsuits. He had been kidnapped by demons was all he could think for a moment. There was another man with the meal deliverer who unlocked the chain from his ankle, and they hoisted him up and drug him from the room.

"What's going on?" Sam protested as he tried to get his feet under him, so he wasn't being dragged. "Where are you taking me?"

Neither of the demons answered him as they led him down several halls and suddenly Sam knew where he was. Screams of torture echoed all around him when they stepped through a door into what looked like a mid-evil movie studio set. He tried to pull away, but the demons held him tightly and moved him into another large room. He was roughly pushed into a chair and took a moment to look around. There was a table sitting against one wall with items sitting on it that he couldn't make out except for a cup. The two demons stood at the door to prevent his escape as they waited for someone.

Sam didn't know how long he waited until the door was opened and two other men stepped into the room. He could tell at a glance who the leader of the group was and watched him as his rage began to build inside of him. He had no idea why demons would want him unless it had to do with his father.

"Hello Sam, it's finally good to meet you," the leader addressed him as he moved to stand in front of him.

"Go to hell," Sam sneered back, not wanting to show any signs of weakness or fear.

"Funny, since we're already there," he chuckled blinking his eyes and looking back at Sam.

The blood froze in his veins when he saw yellow eyes looking back at him and a look of victory on the demon's face. This was the demon who killed his mother all those years ago and the one his father had been hunting for since he was six months old. Sam swallowed hard, and jutted his chin out not wanting to show the fear that was building inside of him.

"What do you want with me?" Sam asked in a strong voice. "Are you trying to lay a trap for my Dad? If so, he's not going to fall for it."

"Your Dad has nothing to do with why you are here Sam. I chose you before you were born. Well, I chose your mother and she made a deal with me. Too bad she had to interrupt me that night in your nursery," he told him as he walked around Sam.

"What do you mean? My Mom made a deal with you? She would never do that!" Sam insisted vehemently.

"Oh, but she did to save poor, dead John, the love of her life. Shall I show you?" the yellow eyed demon asked Sam. He snapped his fingers and Sam wrists were freed. He grabbed Sam's shoulder and whisked them away.

**spn**

Sam felt a strange sensation as suddenly he was moving through space and his stomach flipped when they landed in a clearing. He saw a young Mary kneeling by a young John who was laying on the ground not moving. He saw someone he didn't know talking to her and saw he had yellow eyes.

"You see, I possessed her Daddy and killed her Momma and then snapped dear John's neck. She's all alone in the world and I gave her a choice," the yellowed eyed demon explained. "I could bring John back, or she could live the rest of her life in misery and alone. I only wanted one small thing, to visit her ten years in the future and she couldn't interfere."

"Mom…" Sam whispered as he reached a handout and sucked in a sharp breath when she kissed the yellow eyed demon. It was only a few moments before John began to move beside her and she reached for him as her father slumped over dead. He could see the misery and hurt on her face as she fell into John's arms and sobbed.

"That won't do any good, this is only a memory. You can't change anything that has already happened." He grabbed Sam's shoulder again and they moved forward in time to the night Mary died in his nursery fire.

Sam got his balance and looked around in shock. This was his nursery and he heard himself whimper in his crib. He was in horror as the yellow eyed demon cut his wrist and let the blood drip into Sam's mouth.

"Better than mother's own milk, hey Sammy?" he gloated when he saw Sam's face.

Sam couldn't say anything when suddenly an older Mary burst into the room and spoke to the demon. Before he could see what else happened Sam found himself back in the room with the two demons still standing by the door. He looked at the yellow eyed demon with disgust and hatred.

"Why did you do that?" Sam asked.

"Well, you see, you're one of my special children and I have plans for you. Unfortunately, I've had to adjust my timetable, so to speak, and you are going to help me."

"I'll never help you! Go ahead, you might as well kill me, but I'll never do what you want."

"I can remedy that, Gerald if you will," the demon instructed one of his minions.

Before Sam could protest or say anything black smoke billowed from the demon's mouth and forced its way into Sam's mouth. He struggled for a moment until the demon had possessed him.

"I mean, really? Couldn't you have at least let him shower first?" demon Sam asked as he wrinkled his nose and pushed his greasy hair out of his face. "This is really disgusting."

Sam could hear and see everything, but he had no control over his own body and screamed his rage as he tried to force his way back to the surface. He felt raped, degraded, mortified by what was happening to him, but he still didn't understand what the demon wanted with him. His last thought before being knocked out was of Dean and that he might never see him again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The sunlight was streaming through the curtained window as John rolled over in bed and grabbed his head that was pounding from drinking too much the night before. Something had happened and it took him a few minutes to remember the confrontation with his youngest. He groaned in frustration realizing what a fool he had been pushing him away like that. There had been things said by him that never should have been said and now he had ousted his youngest son. It was something he couldn't take back and he couldn't stop berating himself for what he had done. He got up and sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands, allowing the room to stop spinning before attempting to get up.

"Dean?" he called as he made his way into the other room. He looked around when silence answered and stepped to the other bedroom to see it empty, as well as the bathroom. John went to the window and looked out seeing only his truck parked in front of the room and swore under his breath. He didn't know if Dean had gone to get some food for them or had taken off. He got his answer when he saw the sheet of paper trapped under the empty whiskey bottle. After pulling it out and reading it three times he crumbled it up and cussed loudly.

John looked around for his jacket and fished out his cell to call Dean but though otherwise. He knew his son was mad at him and probably wouldn't answer his call. Instead he called another hunter in the hopes that Dean had gone to see him. He waited as the phone on the other end rang.

"Singer Salvage," a gruff, older voice answered.

"It's me Bobby, don't say anything, I just wanted to see if Dean is with you," John said quickly before Bobby said his name.

"Yep," Bobby replied in a not so friendly tone.

"Good, don't tell him I called. I just wanted to be sure he was okay. You don't have to tell me; I know I screwed up."

"Pretty sure that's true. You're being an idjit," Bobby said walking away so he wouldn't be heard. "I don't know what you were thinking, but you sure made a mess of it. You need to start thinking straight and pull off the blinders to see what's right in front of you."

"I know Bobby, I know. I'll stay in touch. I'm heading to the Road House for some help. Will you watch out for him?"

"I'll do that," Bobby answered before hanging up. He glanced into the other room at the young man nursing his second drink and sighed. He swore the Winchesters were going to worry him to death one of these days with all the drama.

He had seen how Sam and John butted heads once Sam was old enough to stand up for himself. It still surprised him how they couldn't see how much alike the two of them were. "Why don't ya finish that up and put yer car in the empty bay on the end?" Bobby suggested wanting to get Dean's mind off his worries and away from the liquor. He was sure Sam would contact him or maybe even call the salvage yard once he got settled and in a routine.

**spn**

Once John was sure Dean was okay, he went to the bathroom to take a hot shower so he could pack and leave. He didn't want to go to the Roadhouse but knew of someone there that might be able to help him hunt down demons. With neither of his son with him now, it seemed even more urgent to stop the yellow eyed demon to protect them. He got his shower and put on clean clothes before packing his duffle to leave. It would be late when he got there if he only stopped for gas and junk food, but that was okay. He knew Ellen would be up late closing the place up and wasn't looking forward to seeing her, but he had to put his feelings aside for now.

He tossed his bags into the truck and climbed in getting settled before cranking it up. It was black and shiny like his car was that he gave to his son when he turned sixteen. He still missed her, but knew she was in good hands and would be taken care of since Dean was as good under the hood of a car as he was.

The roadways were not crowded since the morning rush hour was almost over with and John made good time to the interstate and headed southwest toward Stillwater. He flipped on the radio and found a station to his liking as he settled down for the drive.

The cruel words he had said to his youngest still played around in his head like on a loop. He had lashed out without thinking, without realizing the consequences of his actions. He wished he could take it all back and tried to make him see how important it was to kill this demon, but he was too quick to anger and now he had alienated both his sons. Mary told him his temper was going to get him into trouble one of these days and she had been right.

He hoped that the ties to his sons had not been broken, but only cracked a little and he could mend them. At least Dean had let him know to call if he needed help. He was happy that he was safe for now with Bobby but knew he would be looking for a hunt soon and hoped he played it safe. John had already decided that he'd give Sam some time to cool down and when he was near to Stanford, he would check on him. He didn't plan on confronting him again, but just wanted to make sure he was safe and seemed okay.

The truck ate up the miles and the day passed by before John got to Stillwater and turned off the interstate to make his way to the Roadhouse. This was going to be hard on him since he hadn't been there in a long time. Not since the hunt he had gone on with Bill went sideways and he ended up dead. He knew Ellen would never forgive him for that even though she had called once or twice trying to get him to come by. He never responded wanting to let those painful memories stay buried. If he could talk to the person, he wanted to without seeing her he would have, but that wouldn't be happening. He would have to see her again, there was no way around it.

The parking lot was half full since it was a weekday and John pulled his truck into the gravel lot and parked away from the other vehicles. He took a few slow breaths as he worked up the courage to go inside and get it over with. The worse she could do was throw him out and he'd have to contact Ash a different way. He was on edge but tried to calm himself as he got out of the truck and made his way toward the door. He could hear music drifting from inside and when he opened the door mumbled conversations filtered out too. He paused in the doorway and gave the room a glance before making his way to the bar and taking a stool.

A cute, young blonde was behind the bar and she came over to take his order. He knew this was Jo, Ellen's daughter, and was surprised at how much she had grown. But he should have expected it since she was Sam's age.

"What can I get you?" she asked wiping the spot in front of John and sitting down a napkin.

"Beer is fine," he said. He waited for her to return before asking his question, "Is your Mom around?"

"She's in the back, who wants to know?" she bristled giving John a once over. Not many people asked for Ellen when they came here, and she didn't know who this man was or his connection to her mother.

"I'm actually here to see Ash, but knew I needed to see Ellen first."

"I'll get her," Jo replied looking at John with a slight frown before moving to the end of the bar and disappearing through swinging doors.

John sipped on his beer and waited. He hoped the meeting wouldn't turn nasty. He looked up when two women stepped through the swinging doors and moved his way. He couldn't read Ellen's face and wasn't sure where he stood with her.

"John Winchester, it's been a long time," Ellen finally spoke as she looked at the older man and saw the signs of being a hunter on his face. He had aged over the years and they had not been kind to him, but still he had that rugged, handsome vibe to him.

"Hello Ellen," John greeted her in a quiet voice.

"Jo here tells me you want to see Ash."

"Yeah, I need his expertise with something and know he's the best."

"You're still looking, aren't you? You've not given up this hunt."

"I can't. It killed my wife and it might be after my sons. I've got to try and kill it before something happens."

Ellen studied him for a moment, seeing the worry and stress in his eyes and knew he wasn't lying. He was a hard man to understand, but she knew he loved his boys and would do anything for them. She knew they were grown now, but she hadn't seen them in years.

"He's in his room in the back, Jo, honey go roust Ash for me."

"Sure Momma," Jo replied leaving them to get Ash.

"Thanks Ellen," John sighed as some of the tension left him. If he could get Ash working on finding demon signs, then maybe he would get lucky and one would lead him to the yellow eyed demon or at least to ones that might know the demon's plans for his son.

"How are your boys John?" Ellen asked.

"Sam's in a fancy college and Dean's…Well, he with another hunter for now," John told her. He didn't want to give away either location for his boys because you never knew who could be listening.

"Good for him. I'm trying to get Jo to enroll in college too. She can be hardheaded, but I think I'm getting through to her."

"It wasn't my choice for Sam, but he was bond and determined to do it."

"You have to let them go sometime John, maybe it was for the best."

"I hope so. I'm just scared I won't be there to protect him."

"You trained him well, remember that." Ellen moved away to serve another patron and left John mulling over what she had said. He had trained both his sons to be warriors, though Dean took to it like it was second nature, where Sam struggled at times. Had he done enough? Was Sam safe on his own at college?

He finished the beer and waited for Jo to come back with Ash.

* * *

**A/N: Now we know what John is doing and neither are the wiser as to what happened to Sam. Thank you for taking the journey with me. I hope you enjoy the read. I do like reviews. NC**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Sam didn't understand the meaning of the demon's words for a moment, until he saw the black smoke roll from the mouth of the demon standing beside him. He tried to back away and turned to run but was caught by the two demons guarding the door and held in place. His horror increased as the black smoke forced its way into his mouth. He struggled for control as he choked and suddenly found his mind locked in a room with no way out. Sam began to beat on the walls as his worst nightmare took shape. He was possessed by a demon and had no idea why they would be doing this. His world consisted of a four by six cell with no access to his body.

"He's not to be harmed," the yellow eyed demon growled to Gerald and the others as the batted around Sam's body for play. "He has a huge role to play when he has been broken and will do as he is told."

"Yes sir," Gerald said quickly, straightening up and getting the feel of the new body. He liked it but knew he wouldn't be staying long.

"He's going to be resistant at first and he is to be controlled. Let's get this started so I can get back to other matters. You know what needs to be done, so get to it," Azazel ordered before leaving the room, pausing at the doorway to look back at his followers. "I will be back, and I do expect results."

"Nothing to worry about sir, we will be sure to have them," Gerald replied as he made Sam's body stand tall. "Guess might as well get this over with," he sighed going to the table that had a cup sitting on it. "Down the hatch Sammy boy." He picked up the cup of blood and drained it, grimacing at the taste. "Glad I'm not having to do this all the time and it's not me that's really going through this."

"Guess we should get him back to his cell until the next dose," one of the guards commented.

"Yeah, you're right I guess, but wouldn't it be fun to do something with this body just to irritate him?"

"Alright, let's do this so I can get into my clean meatsuit," Gerald told them before heading out of the room and to Sam's cell. He went in before smoking out of Sam's body.

Sensation suddenly came back to Sam and he fell to his hands and knees as the black smoke left the room. Sam had his eyes squinted shut as he worked on drawing in huge breaths of air. He opened his eyes enough to see the cot and crawled to it, collapsing on top of the blanket. He did a check to see if he had been injured physically and didn't find anything wrong. His mind was still reeling from the assault and how violated he felt now.

There was an unpleasant, coppery taste in his mouth that he couldn't rid himself of and felt around by the bed for what was left of the bottle of water he had. Sam downed it, hoping to remove the taste wondering what they had done to him. He didn't know how long he had been possessed since time seemed to have stood still when he was trapped inside his own mind. He hated that feeling of vulnerability but didn't know how to stop it from happening again.

The small spark of hope he had was giving way to helplessness and despair now for he knew they could do whatever they wanted to him and he had no way of stopping them. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he prayed that Dean might try to contact him at Stanford and find him gone. But still, he would have no idea where to even begin looking for him, so it was going to be up to him to figure a way out of this. But for now, he shut down not wanting to think about what he had be subjected to.

**spn**

Time passes differently in Hell than on Earth. Days and weeks there would only be mere minutes in the real world. The passing of time meant nothing to Sam and the only way he could tell it was moving forward was with the lights going on and off. Even then, he didn't know how to judge the length between or how long the lights stayed off.

He was taken from his cell most times, twice a day as the demon blood was continually being forced on him. Each time he was possessed and released after the deed was done. It was beginning to wear him down no matter how hard he fought it. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out before he broke. He never heard the comings and goings of the demon bringing his trays of food anymore. Sometimes he ate and others he didn't move from the cot. His mind was trying to compensate with the ordeal he was be put through but even then, it could only do so much to keep him sane.

The demon came back to find Sam still lying on the cot. It looked like he hadn't moved since he had brought the food to him. He looked down at the tray to see nothing had been touched and looked back at the prone body. He knew the boss wouldn't be happy if his favorite pet got sick or worse, died. He took the tray and decided to tell Gerald and see what he wanted to do. He was not going to take the blame for any of this and didn't want to upset the Boss. He knew what happened to the last demons that did that.

"Gerald, we have a problem," the demon announced. He found Gerald in the main room sitting in a chair that was not his to sit in, but he was acting like the boss while the Boss was away. Gerald always acted like he was better than the rest of them since Azazel had appointed him his right-hand man, for now anyway.

"What now Harold?" Gerald questioned rudely, miffed at being disturbed.

"He's not eating."

"So what? He'll eat when he's hungry." Gerald shrugged.

"He doesn't look good Gerald. I don't think Azazel will be happy if he tries to starve himself," Harold continued wanting to be sure he could blame Gerald if anything went wrong.

"You're such a worry wart Harold. He's due for another dosing in an hour, I'll make him eat if I have to. Does that satisfy you?"

"I guess, you're in charge. I just wanted to let you know," Harold stated turning and leaving feeling he had covered his ass here.

"Bring him in an hour and we'll get this done with. I have an important errand to do afterwards," Gerald said trying to act like he was above all the other demons. He wanted to feel superior to them and rubbed it in their faces that Azazel had chosen him to look after the chosen one.

"I'm sure you do," Harold mumbled under his breath before leaving. He hoped Gerald got what was coming to him and soon. He checked the time and went in search of Stan to help when it was time to get Sam up and take him to Gerald.

**spn**

Sam was still on the cot when the two demons came into the room. They grabbed him up and supported him as his legs gave way from trying to hold his weight. He tried to get his muddled brain to start working when they drug him to the same room as before. Sam started stammering and backpedaling when he saw Gerald standing by the table looking smug.

"Hello Sam," Gerald greeted him as Sam stuttered making no sense. "It seems you've been a bad boy. You didn't eat your dinner and we can't have that, now can we? My boss, Azazel, wants you healthy and strong for the next step in his plan…So, if you don't eat…Well, when I possess you, I can be sure you do," Gerald told him.

Sam stopped struggling as the words sunk in and he glared at the demon, his eyes filled with hate and contempt. So, the yellow eyed demon was named Azazel. Before he could get his thoughts gathered, Gerald smoked out and entered him again. Once again, Sam was trapped in his cell not knowing what they were doing to him.

"Let's get this over with," Gerald sighed going to the table and downing three times as much blood as the first time over a month ago. "Don't see why we can't just load him up on the blood and see what happens. This is getting boring really fast."

"Should we bring food or are you going to see if he will eat?" Harold asked.

"Bring the tray and I'll make him before I smoke out," Gerald replied with a wave of his hand. "We'll let him see he has no control anymore and maybe that will break him sooner."

"As you wish," Harold answered stepping from the room to bring the tray of food.

Gerald looked down at the disgusting food and turned up his nose but picked up the sandwich and took huge bites wanting to get this finished as quickly as he could. He hardly chewed, almost swallowing it whole until the food was gone. Bits of food were lodged in Sam's beard and his shirt front had greasy spots from the dropped crumbs of previous meals. Gerald wiped a hand over Sam's mouth and burped loudly before heading back to his cell to release him. He didn't think it would be much longer and Sam would be broken and ready to do as Azazel bid. He could feel him weakening and his will to resist was almost gone.

No one was coming to save him. Not his father, not his brother, no one, and that was what was going to break him.

* * *

**A/N: Now we know a little of the plan the Yellow Eyed Demon has for Sam. Can he be saved? Thank you for taking this journey with me. Hope your holiday has been a good one. I do like reviews. NC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

People would never know to look at Ash that he was a computer genius and could do anything with them. He wore ratty, thrift store clothes and had a stoned look on his face, even if he wasn't. His hair was cut short in the front and sides and long in the back, giving him a hippie look. He followed Jo from his room to the bar to find out who wanted to see him. Ash spotted him right off talking to Ellen and knew he was a hunter. He could always spot the breed and was cautious around them.

"Name's Ash, you wanted to see me?" he asked as he took a seat at the bar and looked to Ellen for a beer.

"Go ahead, I'm buying," John told Ellen as he pulled several bills from his pocket. "John Winchester."

"I think I've heard of you before but haven't seen you in these parts," Ash commented before taking a swing of the cold beer.

"It's been awhile," John agreed. "I need your computer skills."

"On what?"

"Tracking demons," John whispered as he let his eyes roam the room. Some were hunters and others were townsfolk or people just pass through, but he still didn't want to announce his reason for being here.

"Can't be done," Ash stated.

"It can, I've been doing it," John replied picking up the folder he had sitting beside him and pushing it toward Ash. "My research, think you can do something with it? Maybe create a program to get it done faster?"

Ash took the folder and opened it up so he could flip through it. His eyes widened as he looked at all the data John had gathered and how he was using it. "Damn…This is some crazy stuff. Give me…" Ash started and stopped as he worked it out in his head. "Sixty-one hours and I'll have something for you."

"Thanks, I'll come back," John said. He got up from the bar stool to leave when Ellen stopped him.

"Might as well hang around, he may be done before that," she told him. "I still have a room in the back you can use."

"I don't want to be any trouble…"

"Nonsense, no one's using it right now. You can help out behind the bar here, give Jo a break."

"Thanks Ellen, I appreciate it."

"How are your boys?" she asked. She watched John's expression change and the wall go up before he spoke.

"They are okay," he said dully.

Ellen knew something was wrong but didn't press the issue with him. If he wanted to talk, he would, and she would not butt in. "Jo honey, you have the night off."

"Thanks Mom, I'm going to see if anyone's free to go to the movies," she said quickly before scurry away not wanting to lose her chance to go out with some friends.

"You be home at a decent hour young lady," Ellen called after her. "They grow up too fast."

"That they do," John mumbled as he walked around the bar to start bartending. He didn't mind, it would give him something to do while he waited. He wouldn't look at Ellen as he served a customer and wiped down the bar. John could feel her eyes on him, but she didn't say anything to him which he was glad. He continued to work the bar until closing and went out to get his bag before heading for the bedroom in the back.

**spn**

John came out the next morning to find Jo had sat the chairs on the tables and was sweeping and mopping the floors. He helped himself to a cup of coffee and watched as Jo flopped the mop onto the floor and started mopping. He didn't see Ellen and wasn't sure where she was.

"Hi Jo, where's your mom?" John asked when she got closer.

"Supply run, she said foods in the fridge if you want breakfast help yourself," Jo said not looking up from her mopping.

"Thanks, need any help?"

"You could take the trash out for me. Dumpster's in the back out the backdoor."

"I'll be happy to."

"Oh, the recycled is separated so don't mix them or Mom will have a cow."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he chuckled as he headed back into the kitchen to hunt something for breakfast. He found a yogurt and an apple, deciding it would do for now. Before he started eating, John grabbed one of the trashcans sitting by the backdoor and carried it outside to dump and came back for the other. He picked up the container of empty beer bottles and took them to the one marked recycle on the side and sat them inside. Once that was done, John sat down at the table with his food and coffee to wait for Ellen to get back. He was thinking of searching for a hunt in the area and coming back by to see what Ash had found. His thoughts were interrupted by voices in the other room and Ellen stepped into the kitchen with bags in her hands. "Let me help you with those."

"Thanks, I see you found something to eat," Ellen commented as she sat the bags on the counter.

"Yeah, Jo told me it was okay with you."

"You wait on yourself around here, I'm not anyone's maid or mother, but my daughters and I'm trying to break her of that too."

"She seems like a good kid."

"Yeah, if I can just keep her head out of the game. She wants to hunt like her father, and I want her to go to college," Ellen said without thinking and saw John stiffen with her words.

"You know how sorry I am that I screwed up. I beat myself up every day over it," he said looking down at his cup of coffee.

"It's in the past now John. I was angry and wanted to kill you, but it happens to the best of us. Hunting is a deadly way of life and you never know from one hunt to the next if it will be your last. I finally forgave you a long time ago and I think you need to forgive yourself."

John looked up into her eyes to see she was telling the truth and nodded slightly since he couldn't get any words out as his throat constricted and he blinked away the tears. He cleared his throat before being able to speak. "I thought I might look for a hunt nearby while Ash is working and come back once I'm done."

"You sure you don't want to rest a few days?"

"It's better if I keep busy. I'll get my laptop and see if I can find anything." John got up and threw away his trash before going to the bedroom for his laptop. He set up at the kitchen table and began to search the websites he had bookmarked to see if anything might be a case. He wanted to stay fairly close so when Ash was finished, he wouldn't be that far away and could see what he came up with. John was not a man that could stay inactive for very long and liked to keep busy. He hoped coming here and getting this help would help him to protect his sons and finish his mission to kill the demon who killed his wife.

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**A/N: John is seeking help in his quest to protect his sons. Thank you for taking this journey with me and I hope you enjoy the ride. I do like reviews. NC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Dean had stayed at Bobby's for nearly a week after the incident before he had that itch to find a hunt. He had been scouring the internet that morning and thought he might have found something in Nebraska he could check out. He had not talked to Bobby about what happened just that Sam was gone to college.

Bobby didn't press him but knew there was more to the story than that. He knew John Winchester and was sure he didn't take his youngest son leaving very well. He had warned John several times that he needed to do better by his boys, but he wouldn't listen to him. One time after an argument, John never came around for over three years and only then because he needed somewhere to leave the boys for a few weeks instead of dragging them with him. Dean was hand full then, full of spit and anger and Sam was the total opposite, gentle and quiet.

"You heading out son?" Bobby asked as he walked into the kitchen from the backdoor. Dean had told him he was going to look for a hunt and was surprised he had stayed this long. He knew Dean didn't like staying in one place for long and figured it had to do with all the moving around as a kid.

"Yeah, I've hung around here long enough," Dean replied. "May have found a hunt in Nebraska."

"So, you're hunting on your own now?"

"Guess so since Sammy's decided to do the college scene."

"And yer Daddy?"

"He doesn't need me; I'll be fine Bobby."

"Just don't be an idjit, and call if you need backup. If I can't make it, maybe Caleb or Mackie will be nearby. I could give them a call."

"Naw, don't bother until I see if it's even our thing. Hate for them to make a trip for nothing," Dean insisted.

"Suit yerself. You just be careful and don't take any un-necessary risks. I'm heading out on a parts run so I'll say goodbye now."

"I'm going to shower and head out. I'll call when I get there. Don't worry I'll be careful Bobby." Dean threw him a wave before he headed from the room and up the stairs to the bathroom to get his shower so he could head out. He had approximately a seven to eight-hour drive ahead of him and wanted to get on the road. It would be late by the time he got there, so he'd need to get a motel room for the night and start his search tomorrow.

**spn**

The Impala rolled down the interstate toward Nebraska and a small town called McCook. It was in the southwest corner of the state about an hour south of North Platte. There had been deaths at a popular hangout called Lover's Leap in the past month that piqued his interest. The number of deaths were more than a town that size should have in such a short period of time and could mean there's either a serial killer on the loose or a supernatural monster involved.

Dean's mind went to his younger brother wondering how he was settling in at college. He had hoped to maybe have a call from him, but it hadn't happened. He looked over to the empty passenger seat and the ache in his chest grew because the one that was supposed to be there was missing. His high for a hunt was shot down with the thoughts of having to do this alone now, with no little brother as backup. Hunting just got extremely complicated since he had no one to watch his back. Bobby was right, he could call Caleb, but it wouldn't be the same. Sam and he could read the other's mind when they hunted and knew what the other was going to do. Neither had to second guess the other, since the bond they had from childhood was still strong within them.

The motel he chose was small but suited his needs. He didn't even think about it until he walked into the room that he had booked a double. Dean looked at the bed for a moment before sitting his bags on it and going to the bathroom. He felt his soul crumble a little more and it felt like bands were tightening around his heart, making it hard to beat. He leaned heavily against the counter and gasped out trying to breath. Even though he had accepted his brother leaving for college, all these reminders brought all those powerful emotions back.

He came out and changed into sleep clothes to turn in early. He wanted to get an early start in the morning so he could get this hunt over with and move on to the next. He decided the only way he was going to get through this was face it head on and stay busy to keep his mind off his brother.

**spn**

The police station was easy to find, and Dean made his way toward the front doors and stepped into the foyer of the station. He gave the place a once over before stepping to the counter and waiting for the officer to get off the phone.

"May I help you?" he asked once he had hung up.

"FBI, Agent Young," Dean stated pulling out his fake badge and flashing it. "I'd like to speak to the person heading up the case on the recent deaths you've had at Lover's Leap."

"That would be Detective Ross, but he's not in the office. He's in the field at the moment."

"Then can I get a copy of your reports on the deaths so I can begin reviewing them. Oh, and could you call Detective Ross and let him know I'm waiting here for him?"

"I guess that'll be okay. I can have you talk to the Chief if you like."

"Sure, why not, just be sure and get me the reports," Dean nodded, trying to be friendly but realizing Sam was the one that was good with situations like this. He had that face that people trusted almost immediately. He gave the officer a brief smile before he disappeared into the room behind him. Dean turned to lean against the counter and waited for the officer to come back with the chief. He tapped his foot against the floor as he gazed around the office trying not to act as uncomfortable as he felt.

Dean turned when someone cleared their throat at saw a middle aged, grey haired man staring at him. "Agent Young, FBI, and you are the chief?"

"Chief Frazier, Agent Young. I'm a little confused why the FBI is here when I don't remember calling them," Chief Frazier said.

"I don't question the higher ups Chief. I just go where they tell me to. Do you have any leads on the murder victims?"

"No, not yet, Detective Ross is following up on some things. But you may have come here for nothing. We're thinking the killings are a rabid wild animal of some kind. Animal control is setting traps and we've warned the townsfolk to steer clear of the area."

"Then it wouldn't hurt to have another pair of hands helping out," Dean offered. "Can you point me to the morgue so I can check out the bodies?"

"You're here; guess it won't hurt," the chief said with a sigh. They weren't having any luck with tracking down whatever was doing the killing. "It's in the basement of the hospital. If you followed Maple Street to the end and hang a right can't miss it."

"I've got the files copied for the agent," the officer from the front desk offered holding out a folder for Dean.

"Thanks," Dean said accepting the offering. "Here's my number if you'll have Detective Ross call me. No use me waiting on him when I can get started on the case."

"I'll do that agent," the chief nodded taking the card and looking at it for a moment as Dean headed for the door.

**spn**

The diner wasn't busy when Dean made his way inside and took a table away from the other customers. He ordered the breakfast special and coffee from the waitress and after she left opened the folder to check out the reports on the dead bodies. He began to scan the pages, looking for anything out of the ordinary or any red flags that would tell him a monster was involved. Dean moved the papers when his food was brough and continued to read as he ate.

The pictures of the crime scenes were brutal and bloody. He grimaced and glanced around to be sure no one else could see them. So far, there were four dead, two young couples that had gone to Lover's Leap to make out. He finished his meal and headed out to find the morgue and view the bodies. He followed the Chief's directions and found the hospital. Dean parked in the back and found an entrance to the morgue.

The coldness and funky smell hit him as soon as he walked through the doors into the morgue. This was the worst part of the job and it never got any easier. He looked around and saw a person sitting at a desk working on a computer.

"May I help you?" the tech asked when he saw Dean.

"FBI, Agent Young, I'm here to see the bodies of the victims found at Lover's Leap," Dean stated flashing his badge.

"Alright, hope you've got a strong stomach, it's pretty gruesome," the tech said. He got up and went to the wall that had rows of doors lining it. After a few moments of looking, he pulled four out for Dean. "Here you go."

"Oh, and could you make me a copy of the autopsy reports?"

"Flash drive okay?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine," Dean replied as he slipped on a pair of latex gloves before moving to the first victim. He pulled back the sheet and swallowed hard to keep from puking. The chest cavity had been ripped apart and it looked like the internal organs torn out. He studied the wounds and looked at the long gashes on one arm before turning to the tech. "Were any of the organs found near the bodies?"

"Nope, cops are thinking the animal that killed them ate them," he replied.

Dean turned back to the body and covered it up to move to the next. It was almost identical to the first but had a few more gashes on his arms like he put up a fight. The other two didn't show anything unusual either, but Dean was starting to form a picture of what had attacked these kids and it sure wasn't a rabid wild animal.

"Here you go," the tech said, getting Dean's attention. "The autopsy reports. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, I'm good thanks," Dean answered. He covered the bodies and slipped them back into the bins before pulling off the gloves and leaving. He had some research to do and right now he missed his brother more than ever.

* * *

**A/N: Dean's on his own and hunting, but he still misses his brother. He's going to find out soon that Sam's not at college and can't be found. Thank you for coming along for the ride. Reviews would make my day. NC**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Is anyone else having problems uploading chapters to FF the past two days? Can't download can only cut and paste. NC**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Sam found himself on the floor of the cell coughing up bile and undigested food. He stumbled to his feet and to the commode where he threw up, trying to relieve the intense pain in his gut. He could tell the demon had made him eat when he possessed him but there was something else too. Once he stopped dry heaving, Sam rinsed his mouth and sat back, leaning against the wall trying to make sense of all that was happening to him. He couldn't concentrate on what he knew since his head was pounding so hard, he thought it might explode. His chest hurt with each breath and his stomach was still unsettled and cramping. He wiped his wet face of the tears that were streaming from his eyes.

Not able to stand, Sam stayed where he was and let his body slip to the side until his face was pressed against the cold concrete floor. The coldness of it seemed to help ease some of his discomfort and he closed his red rimmed eyes before throwing an arm over his face to block out the bright lights from overhead. His breathing was coming in short gasps that he worked on calming it, along with his racing heart.

He stayed there after the lights were turned off, not caring how uncomfortable it was. He fell into a fitful sleep and he moaned softly as his mind whirled out of control. Sam's dreams were filled with kidnapping and his body being possessed by a demon over and over. He cried out when the demon possessed him and went to Dean pretending to be him and killed him. He could see his brother's blood coating his hands as the demon laughed and told him how pathetic he was. The demon had let Sam watch what he did to Dean, using his own hands to kill him.

Sam's eyes snapped open after the last horrid dream and he pushed himself up from the floor to a sitting position to look around as everything came back to him. He had a fight with his father, leaving for Stanford, the kidnapping, and demon possessions. The lights were still out, and Sam managed to get to his wobbly legs and ran some water to splash on his face and washed his beard that had grown out, before sipping some water from his hand. He rinsed his mouth and used a wet paper towel to wipe over his nasty feeling teeth hoping to somewhat clean them. After drying his hands, he stumbled to the cot and stretched out on it knowing he wouldn't be sleeping any more tonight, at least he thought it was night.

He didn't know how long he lay there staring up at the ceiling a vacant look on his face. He tried to piece together what they wanted from him and what they hoped to accomplish doing this to him. He had an inkling of what the demon was doing when he possessed him now. He was making him drink demon blood because they knew he would never do it on his own. He had caught snatches of conversations between the demons and learned that much but nothing else. He didn't know what that was supposed to do to him or why they just didn't let a demon possess him all the time. Nothing made sense and he was starting to feel the effects on his mind. It was growing slow and difficult to concentrate and to reason things anymore. He fought to keep control and not let himself slide into a bout of depression and hopelessness. He still had to hang on to that thin thread that he could get out of the situation. If he didn't, he might as well kill himself now or retreat so deep into his mind that even the demons couldn't find him.

His stomach rolled just thinking about the blood he had been forced to drink and he bit back the bile that burned the back of his throat. Sam sat up and swallowed hard, forcing it back down when the lights suddenly came back on, blinding him. It wasn't long before the demon that delivered the trays of food opened the door and sat the tray inside the room. He didn't look at Sam as he stepped back out and closed the door behind him.

Sam's eyes followed the demon but didn't say anything to him anymore and waited until he was gone before slowly getting up to get the tray. He didn't want to eat, but also didn't want a replay of what happened previously. He looked down to see what he had, and his eyes widened in shock when he saw a travel toothbrush and toothpaste. He cupped them in his hands like they were made of gold and hurried to the sink. His hands were shaking as he fumbled to get the cap off the paste and smeared it on the brush. He sighed with pleasure as he spent ten minutes brushing his teeth and rinsing his mouth. Even with no paste on the brush he brushed them several more times. That one action made him feel human again. With that done, he went back to eat what was brought to him.

He tasted nothing as he ate the food and drank some water to wash it down. Sam wondered how long it would be before they came for him again. He was starting to feel weird in some way but didn't understand what was happening. Something was happening to him. It was like there was something inside of him that wanted to be released, to be free. Sam didn't think the demons were going to be very helpful and tell him anything and all he could really do was wait.

**spn**

It had been a long time and Sam thought maybe he was going to get a break, but the door opened, and the two demons stepped into the room. He didn't waste his energy fighting them as they pulled him to his feet and led him back to the room where Gerald waited on them. He was facing away from them for a moment before turning to look at Sam.

"Just give me the damn cup," Sam spat in a dull tone before Gerald could smoke out to possess him.

"Boss's orders, can't have you wasting the juice, now can I?" Gerald said. He left his meatsuit and invaded Sam's body once again. After locking Sam away and settling into his body, Gerald stretched and walked around. "I think I'm going to have to upgrade my meatsuit. I'm liking this one. Too bad the Boss has other plans for him." He walked over to the table and picked up one of the cups of blood. They were increasing the amount of blood given to Sam like Azazel ordered wanting to jump start Sam's powers.

Sam lost consciousness when Gerald left him, and he collapsed to the floor in his cell. A crack started to form in the recesses of his mind that grew as what Azazel wanted began to happen. Unknown powers seeped from the cracks and ran throughout his body, jolting him with energy. Sam's mind was on overload as images swam through it so fast, he couldn't lock onto any one thing until a familiar face caught his mind's eye. It was one that he had known his whole life and he focused on bringing it to the forefront.

_Dean was creeping through a dark forest with his gun in his hand. He kept in the shadows, moving steadily forward, his eyes slowly sweeping the surroundings ahead of him. His hunter instincts were telling him his prey was close and he needed to be careful. Before he could react, a dark shape barreled into him, sending them both to the ground. Dean lost his grip on his gun as he hit the ground hard, knocking the air from his lungs. He quickly recovered and began to fight with the monster that had him pinned. It happened in an instance, the werewolf clamped onto his shoulder and bit him, before slashing out with his claws ripping through his chest wanting his heart._

Sam sat up with a cry of despair as his vision began to fade. He saw Dean laying still on the ground as the life drained from his body and his eyes glazed over. It had been so vivid and so real that Sam didn't know what to think. He couldn't understand why he would dream something like that and thought it might be the stress and strain he was under. He knew Dean was a great hunter and had to believe this couldn't happen. John wouldn't let him go hunting alone after a werewolf, at least he hoped that was the case. He rubbed his burning eyes with two fingers, letting the tears creep out around them.

His breathing was coming out in fast, hard pants as he worked on gaining control of his body. His mind seemed more alert than it had been in a long time and there was something else there now. Sam closed his eyes and looked in on himself trying to find what had changed. There was an energy source throbbing and growing that was totally at his command. So, this is what the yellow eyed demon meant by _the gift_ he had given him with his blood. He had made him a freak, a monster, someone that most would fear now. His mind filled with unanswered questions that he wasn't sure if he wanted the answers to. He was changing and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Sam worked on understanding what was happening to him and didn't fight it. They wanted him to break, but that was something he would not do. No, he was going to get free of this place. For now, he would bide his time until they came for him again and he would be ready. He would take back what they took from him and make them pay. He would get his revenge on all of them, especially Azazel, there was no turning back now, the door had been opened and it couldn't be closed. Sam was going to take this power and use it to make his escape, he just needed to learn how to flex it and control it for his benefit, not for the likes of the demons. He marveled at the power as it continued to escape from the barrier that had held it back for all those years. He would master it and he would demand his revenge.

Hell was going to have hell rained down on it.

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**A/N: The demons are going to find they are getting more than they bargained for now that the powers were free in Sam. He is going to have a hard road ahead that he will have to face alone. Thank you for joining me on the journey. I do like to know your thoughts. Please review. NC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Dean went back to the motel to change and to find a map of the area so he could find Lover's Leap. He changed the load in his gun to silver bullets because he was sure there was a werewolf out there stalking the area. He would have to wait until night to track it down but wanted to see the place while it was still light enough to get a lay of the land.

He knew the full moon would last a couple more days and the werewolf would be looking for new victims during that time. He decided to call Bobby to let him know things were going okay and hoped to have the case wrapped up tonight. Dean pulled his cell from his jacket and pulled up the number. He listened as it connected and started ringing.

"Hey, Bobby…Yeah I'm okay…Pretty sure what I'm looking for is a werewolf…I know I did….No I don't think so…Yeah, I'm going back to the crime scene now to check it out and will set up a trap tonight…I will…I will…No, I won't be a dumbass and get hurt…Bye Bobby…" Dean told him ending the call.

The place known as Lover's Leap was on the outskirts of town on a hill that overlooked the valley. The road to the top was gravel and had potholes here and there that he had to avoid. It leveled off at the top and he could make out where vehicles parked along the edge to lookout at the town below. He parked the Impala and got out, looking around at the yellow police tape staked in two places for two crime scenes. The bodies were found outside of their cars as if they were trying to get away. Dean walked the cleared area noticing how easy it would be for someone to sneak up on a car parked here before anyone would see them. He began to explore further until he found broken branches and what looked like blood on some leaves on the ground.

Being careful, he entered the trees and made his way deeper into the shadows following the bent grass and twisted branches of the undergrowth. It wasn't long before he found what looked like bloody leftovers of the werewolf's meal. He was sure this was from the organs that were missing from the victim's bodies. A plan began to form in his mind as he looked around but didn't see anything else helpful. He turned to head back to the Impala but stopped when rustling off to the right of the woods had him drawing his gun and aiming it toward the noise ready to fire.

"What the hell!" Dean growled in anger when two teenagers stepped from between the trees into his line of sight.

"We're so busted," one whispered to the other.

"You know this place is off limits, right?" Dean chastised the teenagers. "I could have shot you or you could have been attacked by whatever is out here. There's a reason its closed to the public, it's dangerous."

"Gee, we're sorry, we just wanted to see where it happened," the other kid whined.

"You're not going to tell our parents, are you?" the first kid asked pitifully.

Dean put away his gun and glared at the two kids deciding on what to do with them. "How did you get up here?"

"We rode our bikes partway and took a shortcut through the woods here," one answered pointing toward the woods.

"So, how far is this shortcut to the road up here?" Dean asked thinking maybe the werewolf took the same route.

"Probably less than two miles. Beats trying to pedal the four miles uphill from the turnoff."

"Okay, c'mon, I'll give you a ride back to your bikes and no more coming up here, understand?"

"Yes sir," they both said.

Dean led them back to the clearing and opened the back door for them to get in. He got in and cranked her up and turned around to head back down the road. He kept an eye on the two in the back as the whispered between them. Some of it he caught, some he didn't. They liked the Impala and wondered how fast it would go. They were going to meet up with someone named Curtis for ice cream later. It wasn't long before he saw two bikes off the side of the road and stopped for the kids to get out.

"No more sneaking around up there got it?" he said with as much authority as he could. "I'd hate to have to arrest you for tampering with a crime scene."

"We won't, thanks," one nodded.

They straddled their bikes and took off down the hill toward the main road. Dean sat there and let them get ahead of him before putting the car in gear to head back to town. He needed to find a couple of items for his trap tonight before heading back to the motel. If things went as planned, he would be leaving this town tonight after the werewolf was killed.

**spn**

Darkness had fallen as Dean made his way back up the gravel road to Lover's Leap. Once he got to the top, he parked the Impala off to the side away from the edge. He began to unload the things he needed for the trap and hoped the werewolf would fall for it.

After he spread out a blanket, Dean positioned two mannequins on the blanket, positioning them like they were kissing. He put a couple of empty beer bottles around them and pulled out a pig's heart from a zip lock bag so there would be a scent of fresh blood. He placed it between the two dummies and thought that might lure the werewolf out. He turned on a radio for noise and sat it at the head of the blanket. He went back to the Impala and opened the trunk to get himself ready. First, he sprayed a cloaking spray over his clothes to mask his own odor and slipped two silver knives into his clothes for added protection. He double checked his gun being sure the silver bullets were loaded before finding a good place where he could watch and wait hopefully for the werewolf to take the bait.

Several hours went by and the werewolf was a no show. Dean had to shift to loosen his stiff body and glanced at his watch. He was about ready to call it a night when the breaking of twigs had him freeze. His heightened senses had him tense and hyper alert. He scanned the forest around him for movement in the shadows letting him know he was not alone. A soft growl reached his ears that normal people probably wouldn't have heard. He slowly moved his head enough to see to the right of him but still couldn't locate the source of the sound, though he knew it was close. Dean hoped it wasn't some random animal out for a midnight stroll that was going to mess up his plans.

The hairs on the back of Dean's neck stood up and a chill ran down his back, but it was too late to defend himself when the werewolf attacked. He caught Dean as he was turning sending them both rolling on the ground. Dean lost his gun and could feel the weight of the creature on top of him. Claws dug into his arm as he fought to keep him from biting him. He got a hand free long enough to grip the silver knife on his belt and pull it out. He drove the knife upwards into the werewolf's stomach making him howl in rage and pain. Dean rolled several times until he felt the gun and got it in his hand. He managed to get to his feet and got the werewolf in his sights as he started shooting. The werewolf managed to evade several of the bullets but was caught by two in the chest. By that time, he was charging Dean and on him; he went down knocking Dean backwards as the creature's dead body collapsed on top of him.

Dean lay there for a moment trying to breath with the weight pressing down on him. He finally managed to push the beast off him and drew in a deep breath before sitting up. The werewolf was disappearing, and Dean pulled a light out to shine on the body as a middle-aged man began to take shape. He didn't recognize him but that wasn't unusual since he could be anyone from the town or someone passing through. He used the light to check out the gashes on his arm and wrapped them with his bandana. He grabbed the legs of the man and drug him deeper into the woods before covering him in brush. Once that was done, he gathered up the dummies and other things to throw away later, but for right now he needed to put as many miles as he could between this town and him.

**spn**

Dean picked up another hunt with Caleb the following week and since he was halfway to California, decided to check on Sam. It had been nearly a month now that he had left for college and he still hadn't heard from him. Dean wanted to give Sam his space, but he was starting to worry maybe he believed what their father had told him and was cutting all ties with them. If he was going to do that, Dean was going to confront him and have Sam tell him to his face that he didn't want him in his life. It would take him two days to drive to Palo Alto since he was in Texas. He took the chance and called Sam's cell only to get the recording the number was no longer in service.

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted the older hunter when he answered. He had decided to call him to see if maybe Sam had contacted him.

"_Dean, are you okay?"_ Bobby asked hearing the tension in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You haven't by chance heard from Sam, have you?"

"_No, why, is something wrong?" _

"I tried calling him just now and the number's not in service."

"_Maybe something happened to his cell and he had to get another one. I wouldn't jump to conclusions yet."_

"I just finished a hunt and I'm going to head that way. I need to make sure he's okay."

"_Call me when you find him."_

"I will Bobby, goodbye." Dean hung up and started the Impala to pull away from the gas station and pick up the interstate heading west. Something wasn't right, he could feel it deep down in his gut as his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He willed them to loosen and tried to work the stiffness from his shoulders. He planned on driving straight through, only stopping for a quick nap in the car somewhere along the way. He merged onto the interstate and into the traffic settling in a lane and keeping pace with the other vehicles around him. He was on edge and wasn't sure what he was going to find once he got to Stanford. If Sam did want to break all ties with their father and him, well, he would deal with it, but he needed to see his brother's bitchy face to assure himself he was okay.

**spn**

The exit for Palo Alto was two miles ahead of him and Dean began to work his way over to exit off. It was after lunch so he should be able to find someone in the administration offices to tell him where Sam was. He signaled his intentions and slowed to exit. Dean spotted signs for Stanford University and followed them to the campus. He located the admin offices, figuring financial aid would be in the building too. He drove around it until he found a parking space and took it. Dean got out and headed for the front doors of the building and hoped one step closer to Sam.

The building was filled with students coming and going as Dean entered and looked for a list of offices. He found the financial aid offices on the second floor and took the steps up to that level. He pushed open the glass doors and stepped into the office and up to a counter with a young woman typing on a keyboard.

"Hi, can I help you?" she asked looking up at him with interest.

"I hope so. My brother was supposed to register here about a month ago and I need to locate him it's a family emergency. I've tried calling but his cell isn't working," Dean offered as an explanation.

"Name?" she asked.

"Sam Winchester," Dean told her. He waited and watched as she clicked a few keys and started to type. He saw the frown crease her forehead as she did something else and tapped a few more keys.

"You say he was supposed to have registered for the fall semester?"

"Yes, he got a full scholarship."

"Hold on, let me get Ms. Berger, maybe she can help you." The young woman got up and went into an office a few doors down from the counter.

Doubt began to seep into Dean's mind because he knew something wasn't right. He looked up when a middle-aged woman dressed in a pants suit came toward him.

"Mr. Winchester, I am Ms. Berger. If you will come with me, I'll see if I can help you," she said opening the door to allow him to follow her to her office. "If you'll have a seat."

"What's going on? Where's my brother?" Dean asked sitting on the edge of his seat.

"We did have a scholarship set up for him and were excited that he chose our school. He was to have registered with the freshman five weeks ago, but I don't show he ever showed up. He never registered and never claimed the scholarship. I have notes that our staff tried to contact him, but his number wasn't working. He never contacted us that there was a problem or anything and I'm sorry to say the scholarship was given to someone else."

Dean listened to her talk but the only words that were making any sense was Sam never made it to college to register. He never claimed the scholarship he worked so hard for. He would not have thrown that away willingly. Something had happened to his brother after he left the motel room for Stanford. Dean had quit listening to Ms. Berger after he learned Sam wasn't there. A coldness began to seep through his body as his face paled.

"I need to go," Dean said quickly, getting up to leave. He needed to make some calls and put out an alert for Sam.

"Sir, are you okay? Do you need some water or something?" she asked seeing the pasty look of Dean's face.

"No," he replied hurrying from the room and out the doors. He raced down the steps and out the building, pulling his cell out to dial his father. When voicemail answered, he dropped into the driver's seat and got ready to leave a message. "Dad, I'm at Stanford and Sam's not here. He never showed up. Something's happened to him. I'm on my way back to Bobby's. Call me Dad; we've got to find Sammy." He hung up and dialed Bobby's number getting voicemail too. "Bobby, Sam's missing, he's not here at Stanford. He never made it. Get the word out to other hunters. I'm heading your way." Dean hung up and screeched out of the parking lot to head east toward Sioux Falls.

His only thoughts were, where was Sam.

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**A/N: Now Dean knows Sam is missing and the search will begin. Thank you for reading my creation and I hope you like where I am going to take it. Action will pick up in the next chapter with Sam. I do like reviews and if have a moment, please leave one. NC**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sam seeks his revenge on the demons holding him and finally escapes his prison. A change of leadership surprises everyone. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I do like reviews. NC**

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**Chapter 11**

The lights went out and the nightlight cast its feeble glow into the room. Sam sat on the cot with his back against the wall. He looked around the room through the strands of greasy hair as his mind whirled and calculated his options. He didn't think there were any cameras in this place, so he lifted his hand and focused on the thin pillow beside him. It wasn't but a few moments before the pillow shifted and then rose slightly off the cot. He held it there for a moment before letting it fall back down looking at it with curiosity. A twitch of pain made him rub his temple and he looked to the night light across the room and concentrated on it. It flickered and shone brighter before fading back to the dim light that it normally was. This was interesting and he wondered just how powerful he was and how much more he could become.

Sam closed his eyes and began to search outward from the cell. There were no barriers for his spirit, and he moved down the hall sensing the presence of others behind closed doors. He could feel the demon souls inside the meatsuits before returning to his body. A plan was forming, and he smirked as his newfound powers danced inside of him ready to unleash hell upon the ones who held him hostage. He was sure the yellow eyed demon would be returning soon from what snatches of conversation he heard from his minion. Sam was going to have a big surprise for him that he was not going to see coming.

They came after the lights came on and he didn't resist as he kept his head down and let them lead him down the hall. He was taken to the same room again and glanced up the see the cups of blood. Sam knew that blood was not needed anymore and waited patiently as Gerald got ready to possess him. He watched him smoke out and eagerly waited for him to force his way into his body.

Gerald was lax as they brought Sam into the room hoping this would be ending soon. He was tired of swapping bodies with this giant since he wasn't allowed to have any fun or inflict any torture. Plus, the stench coming off him now was almost unbearable. He didn't know why Azazel wouldn't let him shower at least once a week but knew better than to question his tactics. He wanted to keep his good standing with the Boss and did as he was told without comment or complaining. Those who did were not around very long.

"Well, let's get this ball rolling," Gerald said. He acted like it was an inconvenience for him to do this and pulled himself from the meat suit he used and rolled toward Sam entering his mouth and making himself at home. He pushed Sam down and locked him in the cell as he began to walk to the table. Suddenly Sam's body stopped, a confused look on Sam's face that the two other demons in the room were not sure what was going on.

Sam felt the demon enter his body and felt himself being pushed into the cell. He waited until the demon thought he was safe before he looked at the door and blew it open with the blink of an eye. Once Sam's mind was released, he bore down on the demon's soul and stopped him from smoking out. He attacked the black soul and tore it apart slowly, making him suffer as much as he could. Sam coughed slightly, letting a puff of black smoke pass between his lips as he pulled himself to his full height and turned to the other two demons who stared at him in shock.

The demons watched not knowing what was happening to Gerald inside Sam's body, but when he turned to them, they saw that it was Sam, not Gerald looking at them. Something had changed about him that made them stiffen and a cold chill ran up their spines. They took a step backwards as Sam took a step forward to challenge them. His greasy hair hung in his face making him look almost insane as his eyes flashed with anger.

"What happened to Gerald?" Harold asked seeing Sam's eyes darken slightly as his anger began to build.

"Gerald is gone, I killed him," Sam spoke with sudden strength and authority.

"Don't kill us please, this wasn't our idea, it was Azazel that was behind it all, he's the boss," Stanley begged cowering before Sam. "If we don't do what he tells us, we are punished severely."

"We were just following orders," Harold added hoping to stop Sam from killing them too.

"Where is he?" Sam growled with a fierceness as his need to exact his revenge was forefront in his mind.

"He just got back, he's in the throne room," Harold said quickly bowing to Sam.

"Show me," Sam demanded.

Harold and Stanley scurried out of the room with Sam following close behind them. They led him down several halls to a pair of double doors and stepped back to hurry away before he changed his mind. They stopped around the corner and looked back watching Sam to see what was going to happen.

Sam stood in front of the doors as he prepared himself for the battle of his life. He could feel the powers surging around inside of him, anxious to be let free. He pushed opened the doors and saw the demon standing across the room with his back to him.

"Sam, nice you could join me," Azazel said slowly turning around and sipping on a drink he had in his hand. "I wondered how long it would take for you to develop into a child of mine."

"I am not your child and I never will be!" Sam hissed in disgust as he stepped into the room. He saw movement in his peripheral vision and looked at the two demons that were advancing toward him. He stared at them for a moment, before they fell gagging to the floor and stilled.

"I am impressed. You're learning faster than I expected and without any coaching or training. We are going to make a great team, you and me. We will take over the world once my army is freed and you will be leading it for me. It was so good of your father and brother to train you as a hunter to prepare you for this. You know I'll have to _thank_ them some day."

"Oh, there will be no you and me here. I will never lead your demon army or do anything else for you." Sam stated in no uncertain terms. "The only thing I will do is kill you. You are not going to hurt my family or anyone else anymore."

"You may think you're strong Sam, but I am stronger," he gloated in delight as he snapped his fingers. "I've been around for a long time and you...Well you are newly born, so to speak. You've not even had time to really test yourself, have you?"

Sam stumbled and went down to one knee, but he raised his steely gaze back to Azazel to see a look of concern cross his face and quickly vanish as he got back to his feet. Sam knew the demon feared him; he could feel it and it made him grin viciously. He could see his black soul churning around inside Azazel's meat suit and clenched his jaw. He raised a hand and clutched it into a fist as he watched Azazel grunt in pain as he grabbed his stomach. He stopped him from smoking out and escaping from his meat suit because he wanted to end this here and now. Azazel was going to die today and there would be one less monster to deal with in the future.

"You killed my Mom. You drove my Dad insane wanting revenge for her death. You are the reason my life was so messed up. And I'm not the only one you screwed up. My brother never got to have a real life. You took that away him and set us on this path that…" Sam growled clenching his hand again, pleased with the pain he was inflicting on him. "You infected me with your blood making me a freak, an outcast, a monster. You ruined both our lives by what you did to me and our Mom."

"No Sam, I saved you from a life of boredom. I gave you a chance to be something great, to be a leader, maybe even the next king," Azazel hissed out as he fought to gain control. "I know you Sam, even before you were born. You were destined to follow this path I started for you. I've been watching you all your life, waiting for the right time to take you. My demons were in your life right under your nose and you never knew it. A teacher, friend, acquaintance, motel clerk, you were always watched Sam. I could feel the power inside of you even when you were innocent, naïve, and young. All you have to do is embrace it Sammy, be who you truly are and quit hiding in your brother's shadow. Look at you, this is the real you. This is who are destined to be. You're pumped with power, power I gave you. Too bad you didn't make it to college," he chuckled seeing Sam frown with this tidbit of news. "What? You didn't think I knew about you running off to college? It was perfect timing actually."

"What makes you think I would ever want any of that from you?" he asked trying to not letting the demon get to him with his words. "I never wanted any of this, I was not given a choice in the matter, but I will not do what you say. I won't turn evil."

"Think about it Sam, my gift has manifested in you now. Will your father or your brother even want you back? Will they treat you differently once they know what you have become? You know they do hunt monsters, demons, freaks…" he goaded him knowing he was getting to him when Sam stiffened, and a look of uncertainty crossed his face at the mention of his father and brother.

"You don't know my family," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"If you're that close, why don't they know you are missing? I know for a fact that your father is hole up in a motel in Mississippi and your brother is on a hunt in Texas. If you are that close to them, you would think they'd at least be looking for you after all this time."

"They think I'm in college, so they wouldn't be searching."

"You sure about that? Maybe they're glad you're gone. Maybe they saw how different and weak you really were and couldn't stomach you being around…."

"Nothing you say is going to stop me from killing you. You've terrorized my family and the world long enough." Sam threw his arm out and tossed the yellow eyed demon, pinning him to the wall. His drink fell from his hand, spilling the amber liquid on the rug, a hint of whiskey wafting up from it. Sam walked up to him and bend down to pick up the empty glass. He looked at it for a moment before turning his gaze back to Azazel. "I know you have been forcing me to drink demon blood, trying to awaken what's inside of me. Well, you got your wish, but you didn't take into consideration that you didn't change who I really am."

Word spread that Azazel was being challenged by one of his _special kids_ and demons were beginning to gather outside the throne room to see what was going to happen. Some had moved into the room but didn't offer to interfere with this giant of a man who had Azazel trapped and emitted more power than any had ever felt. They watched with wide eyes as Sam tossed the glass to the stone floor where it broke to pieces.

"You're going to regret this Sammy boy. If you let me go now, there'll be no hard feelings," Azazel said.

"I don't think anyone is going to help you," Sam stated looking behind him at the demons who cringed as his gaze roamed over them. The demons all looked away quickly when his gaze landed on them afraid of being destroyed by Azazel's chosen one.

"You can't do this, I created you! I am your maker!" Azazel yelled in outrage as he struggled against the power holding him to the wall.

Sam grinned knowingly at him, making his appearance seem even more ominous and deadly. Only one of them was going to walk away from this fight and Sam was going to make sure it was him.

"Now, let's finish this; I need a shower," Sam stated. He focused all his energy and power on the demon's black soul he had trapped in the meat suit. Sam could tell the poor guy's soul was gone already and the only thing keeping him alive was the demon possessing him. He started ripping and tearing at the soul making Azazel wail in pain. He was slowly being shredded like ground hamburger. Sam released a huge rush of energy that blasted out from him finishing off Azazel and several of the other demons that were too close to them. The room shook with the energy burst making things fall around them. Chunks of ceiling fell to the floor around Sam, barely missing them, but he didn't seem to notice. The ones standing outside pressed against the wall and watched as the body of their leader sunk to the floor and tumbled over dead, along with some of the lesser demons. Sam didn't have to exorcise demons; he could kill them now.

Sam drew in a long breath, calming himself before turning to look at the others, seeming not affected by the tremendous power he had expelled. None seemed eager to confront him and he didn't think any of them would try to stop him.

"I will be leaving now, and I want my things given back to me," he instructed with a voice of conviction.

"Excuse me, sir, my king, but what do we do now?" one of the demons asked in a shaky, frightened voice.

"What do you mean?" Sam questioned unsure what he wanted.

"He was our king, our leader, and now he's dead," another replied looking to the body Azazel had been possessing and looking back to Sam in anticipation of his response.

"If you are not going to stay to lead us, who will, sir?" another asked from behind the first one.

"I don't care, pick someone," Sam said throwing up his arms not believing he was hearing this. "But understand this, I will not tolerate any demon threatening my world any longer with a demon war. Believe me when I say, I will hunt you down and kill you like I did your boss. I promise you that. And I don't think there are any here strong enough to stop me."

"Well, I am King of the Crossroads, so that makes me the highest ranking demon right now and that makes me first choice to be King of Hell," a demon said boldly stepping forward toward Sam. He was dressed in a three-piece, dark suit and had a British accent. He seemed pretty sure of himself as he stood facing Sam. "Name's Crowley, nice to meet you…Sir," he added at the end.

"Sure, whatever, you've got the job if you get me out of here," Sam told him. A demon came hurrying in with Sam's duffle and computer bag and held them out at arm's length like he was afraid to get any closer. "Everything better be in here," Sam told him as he took his bags.

"Yes sir, they were not touched since you got here," the demon said bowing to Sam and moving away.

Crowley stepped to Sam and wrinkled his nose when he got a whiff of the odor coming off him. He laid a hand on his arm and they vanished from the room leaving the remaining demons mumbling and whispering among themselves that Azazel's favorite special kid he was grooming, the would-be _Boy King_, killed Azazel and didn't even take the throne. He gave it away. It didn't take long for rumors to start spreading throughout hell and the world above about the change in leadership and their new king, the King of the Crossroads, Crowley, was now King of Hell.

Long live the new king.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I neglected to thank Vegas Granny and Clowns or Midgets for their help with a couple of the previous chapters. Their insight and suggestions helped me make the chapters better. NC**

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**Chapter 12**

John had found a possible hunt in Kansas and went to check it out while Ash worked on creating a program to track demon activity. It took him four days to complete the hunt and headed back to the Roadhouse to meet with Ash. He was tired, bruised up and had sprained his wrist on the hunt. He drove straight through, only stopping at a gas station to catch a short nap, before continuing. Since it was late when he got there, he made himself comfortable in the truck to sleep until someone was awake inside.

Rapping on his window, made John jump and fumble for his gun until he saw Ellen looking in the side window at him. He swiped a hand down his face as he opened the door.

"Coffee's hot, why don't you come on in?" she told him.

"Yeah…Thanks…" John mumbled as he twisted around and got out of his truck. He straightened his tall frame and heard cracking and popping in his back and winced. He was getting old and didn't know how many years he had left in him to do this kind of thing.

"How did it go?" she asked walking with him back to the front door of the bar. She saw he was moving slowly and favoring his wrist when he opened the door for her.

"Nothing major, vengeful spirit," John shrugged. He didn't mention his minor injuries thinking they were not important. He sat at the bar while Ellen continued around it and poured two cups of coffee, pushing one toward John.

"Ash finished up with your project last night. He'll be up soon, and he can show it to you. Never seen him so excited when he finished it. I think you made his month, hell maybe his year."

"Yeah, it'll be great if it works," he said. He sipped on his coffee letting him mind wake up to start a new day.

"Why don't you join me in the kitchen, and I'll fix some breakfast for us?" Ellen suggested. "Jo's sleeping in today and I'll get Ash up if he doesn't stumble in shortly. That boy seems to sense when food is being cooked."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

"I've got to fix my own, won't be any trouble cracking a couple more eggs," Ellen told him. "Don't be a stubborn ass."

They got up and moved to the kitchen so she could work on fixing breakfast. Ellen could feel the tension and stress coming off John and knew he wanted to go banging on Ash's door, but was being respectful of her, she was sure of that. She was making toast, grits and scrambled eggs for their meal, but before cooking the eggs, Ellen headed down the hall and banged on Ash's door calling for him to get up that John was back. Once she heard movement in the room, she headed back to the kitchen to cook the eggs, so they'd be hot.

Ash made his way to the kitchen, still putting on his shirt and plopped down beside John. "Man, I gotta tell ya, that was some badass crap you gave me. I mean damn! What you did there, dude…"

"Did you figure it out?" John asked quickly, not caring about the praise.

"I now have a program running that will track the country for demon signs. If you'll give me your laptop, I'll load a link so when something pops up, you'll get it. Oh, and I can set your cell up to alert you of incoming emails so you will know when you get new intel."

"Thanks Ash, I owe you a case of PBR for this," John told him slapping him on the back.

"Eat up boys while its hot," Ellen told them sitting plates in front of the two men. She sat down with them and studied John as he quickly scarfed down the food. She knew that look in his eyes and wondered if this was going to lead him to what he had been searching for for nearly twenty years. She learned his story from her late husband and felt sorry for him. That was a huge burden to be carrying around for so long. "Guess you'll be leaving when Ash does his magic?"

"Yeah, there's some things I need to do," John replied vaguely. "Thank you for this, it's more than I deserved."

"You just be careful out there John, you know how dangerous demons can be."

John stopped eating for a moment and looked up into her face. "They don't know how dangerous I can be. I'm trying to protect my family and there's not anything I won't do."

"What aren't you telling me John? Are the boys okay?" Ellen questioned. She thought it strange he hadn't mentioned either son since he had been there.

"I should get packed and have Ash work on my laptop," John stated getting up without answering her question. He headed to the spare room to get his things and out to the truck for his laptop. John could feel the surge of excitement course through him. He was one step closer to achieving his revenge for Mary and protecting his sons. He just hoped he was in time to stop anything bad happening to his boys.

**spn**

The rundown abandoned cabin was the perfect place to bring the demon he had captured. It was isolated and there wasn't anyone else around for miles. The devil's trap was drawn in the middle of the floor and a chair with a middle- aged man tied to it was staring at John with black eyes. John had soaked the ropes in holy water and coated them with salt to be sure he couldn't escape.

"What do you know about the yellow eyed demon?" John asked again. He picked up a cup of holy water and splashed it in the demon's face making his skin sizzle and burn. It was not really hurting the meatsuit, but the demon was feeling the effects of it.

"No idea who you're talking about," he spat at him as his hissed and growled madly, straining at the ropes.

"You must know something the way your kind gossips. What are his plans?"

"I don't know," the demon insisted.

John picked up the container of salt and roughly grabbed the man's nose, pinching it shut as he pushed his head back. He poured the salt into his mouth and then followed it with holy water. The demon screamed in agony and coughed up bloody foam. John paced around him getting agitated and trying to decide if he should move on since he wasn't getting anywhere with this one.

"You mean you don't have any knowledge of this demon or where he might be?" he asked again.

The demon coughed hard and shuttered as he tried to keep his composure and not act scared, when he was scared shitless. "I've been up here for a long time. I don't hear much of what goes on downstairs. They wouldn't be telling me anything, I'm squat to them," he admitted.

"So, you have no information for me," John said. "Guess you're of no use to me then." He began to recite the exorcism and watched as the demon struggled in his bonds and cried out. When the last words were said, black smoke poured from his mouth and swirled around before drifting to the floor and disappearing with fiery sparks. John went to the man and felt for a pulse but didn't find one. He pulled his shirt open to find a stab wound to the chest and knew he had been dead for a while. He untied the man and hefted him over his shoulder to take outside and bury him. When demons possessed a meat suit, they rode it hard and most of the time destroyed the soul of the owner along the way and killed them.

John was filling in the grave when his cell beeped, he had an email alert and quickly finished his task. There was no internet service this far out so he would have to drive into the nearest town to see if there were more demon signs elsewhere. This had been the third demon he had found over the past month, but none could tell him anything about the yellow eyed demon. Maybe this time he will have better luck, John thought. He grabbed his jacket and headed to the truck to leave. If this didn't pan out, there was one other thing he could try, he'd find a crossroads and summon a crossroads demon. Maybe they were higher up on the food chain than the other ones he had interrogated.

He drove to the nearest gas station on the outskirts of town and checked his email seeing it was from Bobby asking if he had seen Dean. He sent an answer back and shut it down. He didn't want Dean involved in this and wasn't about to contact him yet.

**spn**

The crossroads was in the middle of nowhere in an unpopulated section of Missouri. John pulled the truck to the side of the road and got out to survey the area. He knew he had to be smart about this if he was going to trap the crossroads demon. He got out the cans of luminous spray paint that couldn't be seen with the naked eye, especially in the early morning light. He paced off the crossroads determining how big he should make the trap before walking the area and removing any larger rocks and debris. Once he was satisfied, he put on some special glasses and started painting out the devil's trap. He decided to make one ten feet in diameter hoping that would be big enough to trap it. It took him fifteen minutes of careful spraying to get his traps into place and make ready to summon the demon. John took a metal box and put graveyard dirt, a picture id, and several other items before moving to the center of the crossroads and digging a small hole to bury the box.

John stood back up and waited, looking slowly around for the arrival of the demon.

"Well aren't you just the sexiest hunk of tall, dark and handsome," a female voice drawled out from behind him.

He turned slowly to see an attractive, dark haired woman staring at him with hungry eyes. John hadn't planned on it being a woman and at first was taken aback by it.

"And what pray tell does John Winchester want with a crossroads demon?" she asked as her eyes flashed red before returning to their normal color. "Do you want to make a deal?"

"I want some information," John said boldly. He had holy water ready to use, hoping to weaken her long enough to get the rope around her.

"Why would I give you that?" she asked.

John took a step backwards from the devil's trap she had stepped into and shrugged before answering.

"So, you won't be standing here for however long this paint will hold up and trap you."

The demon frowned and looked at the ground not seeing anything. She stepped toward John, but only made it three steps before a barrier stopped her. She screamed in rage as she tried to get out of the trap.

"Won't do any good trying to fight your way out."

"I heard rumors you were hunting my kind, but they didn't know why. Maybe we can make a deal?" she suggested as she got her anger under control.

"Where is the yellowed eyed demon?" John asked as he walked slowly around the circle. "I figure a crossroads demon might be a little higher in the pecking order than the others I've questioned."

"You mean Azazel?" she asked as she tried to follow him. "He's the only yellowed eyed one of us that was active recently."

"What do you mean _was active_?" John questioned quickly when he heard her slip.

"How about we make a deal? You free me from this trap and I tell you what you want to know?" she asked. "I won't even ask for your soul, this time," she cooed. "But you only get one free pass."

"You'll tell me what I want to know and then I'll think about freeing you, but it depends on how good the information is."

"Why not, I've got nothing to lose. You can exorcise me, but it'll only be a matter of time before I'm topside again making deals."

John mulled the idea over in his mind trying to decide whether he could trust her or not. He knew demons lied and would tell you anything to get what they wanted.

"How can I trust you?"

"Oh sweetie, when we make a deal, we have to keep it. Poor management on our part if we don't. Who's going to sell their soul if we don't hold up our end of the bargain?"

"You'll tell me about this Azazel if I free you?"

"Yes, deals a deal."

"Alright, deal," John stated facing her and waiting for her to talk.

"It takes more than words to seal our deal honey," she said in a sultry voice.

"What do you want?"

"We've got to kiss to make it binding."

John looked at the woman as his insides twisted, but he needed this intel. He stepped to her and jerked her to him and kissed her full on the lips. She languished in the moment, slipping her hands around his neck until he pushed her away.

"Now that wasn't so bad was it?" she gloated when she saw the look of disgust on his face.

"Talk," John growled at her. He took a sip of holy water and rinsed his mouth, being careful not to spit on the circle.

"Azazel is dead," she said walking as far away from John as she could in the circle.

"What do you mean dead?" John yelled in shock. "I thought he was a high-level demon and couldn't be killed." He couldn't believe that this had been taken away from him after all these years of searching for the demon.

"Guess you were wrong. Words been going around in hell and has filtered topside that an unknown force took him on and won. The Boy King is what they're calling him. You know he could have stay to rule Hell if he wanted? I don't think anyone's seen someone this powerful since Lucifer."

"How do you know this is true and not some rumor?"

"Because my boss, the King of Crossroads, is now the King of Hell. Seems the Boy King didn't want the job and didn't care who took it."

John turned from the demon so she wouldn't see the fear and concern in his eyes. If this being could kill a demon that powerful, he couldn't imagine the destruction it could cause if it was freed on the world. It also puzzled him why it wouldn't take Azazel's place in ruling Hell. That in itself must come with some powerful mojo he was sure any demon wouldn't pass up.

"Where is this Boy King now?"

"No idea, no one does except maybe Crowley."

"Who?"

"Crowley, new King of Hell, my old boss," she huffed at him in irritation.

John had heard enough. He needed to find a place to stay for a few days and sort all of this out. His mind was reeling with this news and he wasn't sure what to think, how to feel, what to do now. He turned to leave when the demon called to him.

"Hey, we had a deal," she said. "I gave you what you wanted."

John looked back at her for a moment before taking his foot and scuffing the paint in the circle so she could get out. He watched the red smoke rush from her mouth and the woman collapse to the ground. After a moment, the woman started moaning and moving around. He knew he couldn't leave her out here alone, she was innocent in all this and wouldn't remember any of it.

"Miss, are you okay?" John asked going to her side.

"Where am I? How'd I get here?"

"I don't know, I was taking a short cut and saw you laying in the road. I'll take you to the nearest town and get you some help," John offered. He helped her to the truck and headed toward a town twenty miles away. He didn't try to talk to her as she stared glassy eyed out the windshield.

Once she was dropped off at a hospital, John would decide his next move. Would it be tracking this new threat and taking it out? With Azazel dead, his mission for revenge was over, but he couldn't give up the hunt. It was in his blood now and he still had to be sure his sons were going to be safe.

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**A/N: This is the last chapter of John by himself. How will he react when he finds out who the Boy King is? Thank you for coming alone on this journey. I do like reviews. NC**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: This will be the last chapter for Dean. The rest of the story will be about Sam and them re-uniting. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I hope you are enjoying the story. I do enjoy reviews and knowing your thoughts. NC**

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**Chapter 13**

The salvage yard appeared in front of him as Dean slowed the Impala to turn into the driveway. He had white knuckled it most of the way back with the impending doom that filled his mind. His little brother was missing. He never even made it to Stanford. And if he wasn't there, then where has he been for the past six weeks. Sam wouldn't just disappear like this. Stanford was his dream and as hard as he fought for it, he wouldn't give it up that easily.

Bobby had left the porch light on for him when he slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop. "Sorry Baby," Dean mumbled clambering out of the car and heading for the front door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door was jerked open by the Bobby, who glared at him for a moment before opening the door further for him to come in.

"I got your message Dean, get in here," Bobby ordered.

"Have you heard anything from Sammy since I was here before?" Dean rushed.

"Easy there boy, let's slow it down and you tell me what's going on," Bobby cautioned him. "I think you need something to drink," he stated when he saw his agitated state.

Dean followed him into the kitchen where he dropped into a chair and Bobby pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels from the cabinet and two glasses from the strainer. He sat down at the table and poured a shot in each glass before pushing one toward Dean.

"Drink this and start at the beginning son," Bobby told him.

Dean wrapped a hand around the glass and swirled the liquid for a moment before downing it in one swallow. He winced as it burnt his throat and settled in his churning stomach.

"I caught a hunt with Caleb and was close enough to California, I thought I'd check on Sammy," Dean started his voice low and rough. "I headed for the admin building to find out where he was instead of scouring the campus for him. They said he never registered for the semester. He never signed in to take the scholarship. Sam never made it to Sanford," Dean finished pushing his glass toward Bobby for another shot. "I should have gone and checked on him sooner! This is my fault!"

"Balls," Bobby growled out removing his hat and rubbing a hand over his head before putting it back on. "You can't go blaming yourself for this Dean; Sam was just going to college. You never thought he'd be in any type of trouble."

"I gotta find him Bobby," Dean pleaded in desperation. "He was my responsibility…I was supposed to look out for him."

"I know son, I'll get the word out to the other hunters in the morning," he assured him. "Have you called yer Daddy?"

"I left a voicemail. He's not called me back."

"Damn him! Doesn't he care about his son?" he spat out wanting to strangle John Winchester if he was standing before him.

"I'll try again," Dean offered, his words weak.

"Don't bother, I may know where he is," Bobby huffed. "Why don't you get some rest. It's too late to do anything tonight and you need to unwind. You're not going to do your brother any good if you can't function."

"I can't just…." Dean started.

"You'll do as I tell you; now get yer ass upstairs and try to get some sleep," Bobby insisted.

Dean cringed, but knew he was right. He could barely think right now and knew if he was going to find Sam, he needed some sleep. He got up and trudged toward the stairs and up to the bedroom he shared with Sam. He stepped into the bathroom first and used it before heading into the bedroom. He kicked his boots off and stripped off his jacket and stretched out on the bed, not bothering to take his clothes off. His mind was filled with the guilt he carried around about his little brother. Why had he waited so long to contact him? He should have known something was wrong when Sam never called him.

Bobby waited until he heard Dean upstairs before taking his cell and pulling up a number for the Roadhouse. He dialed and listened to the ringing on the other end before a young female voice answered.

"Roadhouse," Jo answered.

"Hello Jo, it's Bobby, is your Mom around?" he asked.

"Sure, hang on Bobby I'll get her," Jo replied.

Bobby could hear bar noises in the background and talking before the phone was picked up and Ellen answered.

"Bobby Singer, it's been a long time," Ellen greeted him happily.

"How you been Ellen?" Bobby replied fondly.

"Getting by, I take it this isn't a social call," she said.

"I was looking for John Winchester. He said he was heading your way about a month ago. Have you seen him?"

"He was in about three weeks ago. Was looking for Ash's help to set up a program to track demons."

"Shit! Did he do it?"

"Yep, and John took off right after. He didn't say where he was going, but I'm sure it's after demons."

"If you see him again, tell him Sam's missing, he never made it to California."

"Damn," Ellen cursed. "Of course, I'll have him call you if he comes back. I can see if Ash can find anything online for you and I'll alert any other hunters I trust to be on the lookout."

"You think the kid can might be able to find something out about Sam?"

"I'll see what he can do. You know that boy's a genius on that laptop he made. Where's Dean?"

"He's with me," Bobby said. "Worried sick 'bout his brother and blaming himself for not checking on him sooner."

"You tell him to hang in there, we'll do what we can from here."

"Thanks Ellen, I'll stay in touch," Bobby told her and hung up. He poured one more shot for himself and drunk it before getting up and heading to his own bedroom to go to bed. He would start calling hunters in the morning to be on the lookout for any signs of the lost Winchester.

**spn**

It was barely light outside when Dean began to wake and made himself get up. He went to the bathroom first, before heading down the stairs and squinted from the light, as he entered the kitchen. He found Bobby already up, drinking coffee and reading the paper.

"Morning son," Bobby greeted him.

"Yeah," Dean mumbled as he poured coffee and joined him at the table.

"I found out yer Daddy was at the Roadhouse for a while. I guess after you two split up. He stayed about a week, but he's not been back since," Bobby told him. "There's a young guy staying there with Ellen who she says is a genius on the computer. She's going to have him do some checking too."

"After I get a shower and wake up, I'll start checking to see if he's used a credit card or accessed his bank accounts."

"I've put word out to hunters I trust to be on the lookout for him or if they pick up any chatter that might be about him to call me."

"Thanks Bobby, guess I should get started," Dean sighed getting up to set his cup in the sink before heading back upstairs to shower.

Bobby watched him walk away, his shoulder slumped and his mood just as bad. He could tell he was hurting bad and felt useless to help him. He would do all he could to help find his brother, but Bobby knew Dean was not going to get over this mood until Sam was found.

Dean grabbed some clean clothes before going into the bathroom and turning on the water to heat. He braced his hands on the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and they had a haunted look about them. He hung his head as he tried to force his mind not to wander to places where he imagined Sam being tortured, maimed, or even killed.

With a long sigh, Dean pushed off from the sink and striped out of his clothes. He stepped under the hot spray quickly washing his hair and body so he could figure out what to do next. He had no idea where to even start looking for Sam and that just made matters worse. He couldn't wait around here and do nothing. He had to come up with a plan of some kind. Dean dried his body and hair before stepping from the tub and putting on clean clothes.

There was only one thing that matter right now and that was finding his little brother.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Sam felt his stomach rush to his throat as he was transported to what looked like a very fancy hotel room. He stumbled and tried to get his balance as he stepped from the demon. Once the room stopped spinning, he centered his attention on the demon named Crowley.

"Where am I?" Sam asked.

"This is one of my suites I use when I travel up top," Crowley responded. "I have then all over the world. If it doesn't suit you, I can take you somewhere else."

"Again, _where_ am I?" Sam asked impatiently.

"Upstate New York, the Catskills. Feel free to stay however long you want. Everything is prepaid, so order from room service and please, for all our sakes, make use of the facilities," Crowley said waving toward the bathroom door as he stepped from him. "And if I was you…I'd burn those clothes."

"You know this doesn't make us friends or anything, right?" Sam stated.

"Of course. The way I see it, we both win in this situation. You got what you wanted, freedom, and now…I'm the King of Hell," Crowley offered lightly. "Oh, and here's a little something for your…Troubles shall we say," he offered dropping something on the bed. "Enjoy your stay, this is a five star resort after all. I'll put the _Do Not Disturb_ sign out for you."

Before Sam could toss a snide retort at him, Crowley was gone, leaving him alone in the luxurious suite. He gave the room a curious once over but then his eyes fell on the bathroom and he walked in a daze toward it, pushing the door open and sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes widened as he took in the huge tub, separate shower stall, the stack of soft looking towels and the array of bathroom products lining a shelf beside the tub.

His mouth hung open for a moment before he came to his senses and went to the tub to draw a bath. While the water ran, Sam grabbed his bathroom bag from his duffle and pulled out his toothbrush and paste. He ran some water and brushed his teeth three times and gargled with mouth wash twice before they felt clean. He never knew how much of a luxury it was just to be able to brush his teeth.

He quickly stripped out of his nasty, sweat stained clothes and tossed them in the corner to throw away. There was no way he could salvage them, even if they were washed. After adjusting the water and checking the temp, he stepped into the tub and sat down letting the hot water flow over him. Sam sighed with delight as the water continued to fill the tub until he turned it off before it overflowed. He felt like he had died and gone to Heaven as the water soaked into his grimy skin. Sam leaned his head back against the rim of the tub and closed his eyes relishing in the bath.

Before the water cooled, Sam held his breath and slid down into the water to soak his head. He came back up and wiped his eyes before taking some shampoo to massage into his hair. He worked it through his dirty, greasy hair and dunked his head again to rinse. Sam took a washcloth and soaped it good so he could scrub himself to wash away the loosened dirt and grim. By the time he was done, the water was getting cold and looked nasty. He stood flipping the lever to let it drain.

He moved to the shower and turned on the water, adjusting the temp before stepping inside. Sam knew he wasn't clean yet and started by shampooing him hair again. He repeated it again before feeling that it was clean. He soaped his body and washed his beard before rinsing off. He hated to get out, but he could feel himself getting weak and exhausted from breaking out of hell and couldn't wait to sleep in a real bed. Sam grabbed a large, soft bath towel and dried his body, and then his hair. He removed the hair dryer from the wall holder to partially dry his hair before finding some clean briefs to slip on, noticing they were loose around his lean hips. He had lost weight and muscle mass during his stay in hell and needed to build his body back up.

He wiped his hand across the mirror and looked at the man staring back at him wondering who he was. He was not the same person who was heading to Stanford however many weeks ago. His eyes were harder and wiser, and he ran a hand over his beard deciding he was going to keep it. He would trim it up later to look more presentable.

There was something about it that made him feel older and more secure and showed that he was a different man. It also showed that he was not the same young, giddy, boy heading to college to start a normal life. All that had changed now, but he couldn't think of that right now, that could wait until later.

He looked at the dirty ring in the tub from his bath and used a towel to wipe it before going into the other room. Sam didn't want the maid to wonder about him being so dirty and he was a little embarrassed by it. He stepped into the main room and finally looked to what Crowley had dropped on the bed. He found a roll of hundred dollar bills banded together and looked at it in shock and surprise. He dropped it into his duffle deciding he might need it later and wasn't going to turn it down. After adjusting the air for the room, he closed the drapes to darken it before climbing into the king size bed and letting his body sink into the mattress. He was asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow.

**spn**

The only reason Sam woke was he had to use the bathroom and stumbled into it and relieved himself. He barely had his eyes open and was on auto pilot as he made his way back to the bed and crawled back between the softest sheet he had ever slept on. He hugged a pillow to his chest and went back to sleep, still too tired to even dream as his mind fell into the ebony darkness of the abyss.

All the missed sleep had him sleeping long and hard. He barely moved in the bed once he got comfortable and warm. The remaining day passed, and night came to be chased away by the rising sun and still he slept, only waking long enough to drink some water and use the bathroom. It wasn't until evening that Sam began to stir from the nest he had made and rolled over to try and see the digital clock sitting on the nightstand. He wiped his eyes and looked again before he could read the display.

Sam yawned widely and felt his stomach growl, complaining at not being fed. He wasn't sure when the kitchen closed, but he found the menu and called room service to order some food. Once he placed his order, he made himself get up and slip on a robe provided for the hotel's guest, before digging around in his duffle for the sock he had hidden his money in. Even if everything was paid for, Sam thought he should tip the waiter that brought up his food. He went to the sliding glass doors and opened the drapes partway to look out at the dimming sky as the sun was disappearing beyond the trees.

About thirty minutes later a knock sounded at his door and Sam went to answer it. He looked through the peep hole before opening the door to allow the waiter to wheel a cart into the room.

"Good evening sir, I hope you are enjoying your stay with us," the waiter greeted him. "If you need anything else, the kitchen is open until eight."

"Thank you," Sam replied holding out a five.

"Oh no sir, everything is taken care of, no need to tip," he adamantly said shaking his head no, as he backed from the room. "You can leave the cart outside your room when you are done sir."

"Alright," Sam said. He moved the cart to a table by the doors and started removing the covers, not able to stop his mouth from watering when he smelled the aroma of the food. He quickly found the silverware and began to eat with gusto. He poured a cup of coffee and added sugar and milk before sipping it and savoring the taste that he hadn't had since he had been kidnapped. Sam stopped long enough to burp several times before finishing the food and sitting back sated and content. He had overeaten but couldn't help it. He sat in the chair for a moment before picking up the newspaper to glance at it.

Sam's eyes widen in shock when he saw the date on the paper. It had been a nearly six weeks since he had been kidnapped and he was sure he had been in Hell much longer than that. It felt like months had gone by. He had tried to count the times the lights were turned off and gave up after sixty-eight. He couldn't understand the difference until he remembered something, he had read in one of Bobby's books a long time ago. It suggested that time passes differently in different planes of existence. Maybe that was it, time wasn't the same in Hell as it was here on Earth. He had no idea how long he had been trapped there, but he was out now and that is what counted. He was free.

**spn**

Sam found the remote and channel surfed stopping on news channels where he learned some of what had happened while he was gone. Hurricane Katrina had hit the gulf states, Louisiana, Alabama and Mississippi killing over eighteen hundred people and causing mass flooding and destruction. Houston had the largest evacuation in history from Hurricane Rita and the largest United Nations World Summit was held in New York City. There were common events that he just glanced at, tiring of the news, and finally settled on a movie to watch.

He drank some more coffee and ate a slice of pie as his brother came to mind. Sam knew he would love this pie and a deep sadness filled him. There were so many things invading his mind that his head began to ache. He couldn't think straight or make any decisions about what he was going to do now, so he let his mind rest and watched the screen wanting to let his food settle before going back to bed.

Sam could tell his body still needed the rest before he made any huge choices of what he would do next. When the movie was over, Sam rolled the cart outside his door, being sure to grab the container of salt he had requested. He poured a line in front of the door to his room and the sliding glass door for his own peace of mind. He used the bathroom, closed the drapes back and went to bed closing out the outside world for a while longer.

He would make some decision in the morning when he could think clearer and had a better handle on things. One thing was certain, Sam was going to leave this place soon. He didn't want to be indebted to a demon for anything and he wasn't sure if this Crowley guy, now King of Hell, could be trusted not to try something. He needed to keep his guard up and protect himself.

As Sam lay in his bed, images of his brother sprang to mind. He wanted to call Dean, but what did he tell him? The Yellow Eyed Demon's word haunted him. He wondered if his Dad and brother even knew he had been missing all this time? The college would not have tried to call them since they had no contact information for anyone but him. His father's parting word made his stomach churn and he tried to put them out of his mind. Was he alone now? What should he do? Sam knew he was a freak, a psychic, and some would say a monster. How would his family see him now? Would they want to hunt him down and kill him?

He silenced his mind and rolled over trying to allow sleep to claim him and pushed those thoughts away.

* * *

**A/N: Sam is free, but what now? Big decisions to make for him and will they be the right ones? We will see… Thank you for reading this story. Reviews do make my day. NC**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Morning came and went before Sam finally felt the need to get up and use the bathroom. He looked at the clock, a little shocked that he had slept so long, but then again, he deserved it. He called down for room service again and headed into the bathroom to shower before his food arrived.

Sam had just stepped from the bathroom towel drying his hair when he heard the knock. Still being cautious, he checked to see that it was room service before opening the door and letting them push the cart into his room.

"Do you have laundry service?" Sam asked before the waiter could leave.

"We do. Is there something I can take to be laundry sir?" he asked.

"Yes," Sam nodded going to his duffle to get his dirty clothes.

"If you will put them in here, sir," he offered holding out a plastic bag for the clothes. He had taken a pen and put the room number on the bag for Sam. "I will have these cleaned and brought back up to you asap sir."

"Thanks," Sam replied not used to being called sir. He could tell this man wasn't a demon and just figured it was a quirk of the place. The guests had to be treated well for them to keep their business. He turned to the cart as the waiter left wanting to fuel his body. Each bite was delicious, and he savored it.

Once he was done and dressed in some lightweight sweats and tee shirt, Sam pulled his laptop out to do some research. He started looking at anything he could find on possession and how to stop a demon from doing it. He read numerous articles, some fake and some helpful until several hours later, he finally ran across a tattoo called an anti-possession tattoo. He studied it closely before enlarging it and taking photos with his cell. Sam made sure it was clear and useable. He continued his search and found several sigils that would also be useful.

He found a phone book in the drawer of the nightstand and looked up tattoo parlors to see if there were any nearby. Before he did anything else, he was going to protect himself from being possessed ever again. He wrote down a couple of places and went to change into jeans before putting on his boots and grabbing his jacket. He called down to have his room cleaned and headed out the door to find the elevators.

Sam looked around at all the people hurrying off to somewhere as he made his way down the street. He was feeling self-conscious at being around so many people at one time since he had been cut off from everything during the time that he was held captive. He glanced at the paper in his hand again and noted where he was before moving to the corner and crossing the street. He could see the sign for the place he wanted on the next block down.

A bell jingled overhead as Sam pushed it open and stepped into the small store front. The walls were covered with pictures of tattoos of all shapes, sizes, and kinds. A middle-aged man stepped from behind a curtained off section of the place and up to the counter. He had long hair pulled back into a pony tail and had tattoos on his muscular arms.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'd like to get a couple of tattoos," Sam said cautiously. He had googled the business to find the one that had the best ratings and reviews and this guy was at the top of the list.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, do I need one?"

"If you can come back in an hour, I can probably fit you in if the tats aren't complicated," he said after looking in an appointment book laying on the counter.

"This is what I want," Sam said pulling up the photos on his cell to show the guy.

He studied them for a moment before giving Sam a harder look like he was sizing him up or he knew something he wasn't saying. "Shouldn't be a problem, come back at three and I'll get them done. Can I get your name?"

"Sam, Sam Campbell," he replied, only hesitating for a moment with a last name. "Can you recommend a good place to eat around here?"

"Sure, sub shop down the street has some kick ass subs. So, Sam, see you in an hour," he replied scribbling his name on the page.

"Thanks, can I bring you anything back?"

"Sure, a number eight all the way. No drink got my own. Now if you'll excuse me," he answered before stepping back behind the curtain.

Sam caught a glimpse of someone in a chair with their shirt off and figured he was a customer. He headed back out and wandered down the street to find the sub shop. Since he had an hour to kill, he decided to get some food outside of the hotel. He found the place and stepped in, happy it wasn't too crowded and made his way to the order counter. After giving the menu a quick once over, he decided to have a turkey on wheat with spinach, tomato, Gouda cheese, and oil and vinegar dressing. It came with a drink and bag of chips that he picked out as he waited for his order.

Sam took a seat toward the back of the place where he could see the front door. He picked up a newspaper from the table beside him and started reading it as he munched on the sub. The guy was right it was very good. He read the articles as he kept an eye on the time, not wanting to be late for his appointment. When he was done, Sam went back to order a number eight to go for the tattoo parlor owner.

**spn**

"I see you're back," the guy commented when Sam stepped back into the parlor.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, some people_ think_ they want a tattoo until it comes right down to doing it and chicken out," he shrugged.

"Here's your sub, and I'm not chickening out. I want the tattoos," Sam stated firmly. He had never had one before and wasn't sure how painful it would be, but he had enough injuries over the years of hunting that he didn't think it would be a problem.

"It's your skin, step back into my office," he shrugged taking the sub and holding the curtain open.

Sam entered the room and saw two chairs sitting side by side and an array of colored inks beside the tattoo gun. He swallowed hard and took off his jacket and shirts.

"I want this one put here on my chest just above my heart," he instructed, holding his cell showing the anti-possession one.

"Let me sketch it out. How big do you want it?"

"I guess maybe three inches in diameter. Can you show me when you're done?"

"No problem, name's Nate by the way and thanks for the sub, I'll take it off your bill."

"Don't bother, think of it as a tip Nate," Sam said. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Pretty much all my life. This was my Dad's shop and he left it to me."

"From what I see, you do good work," Sam said. He looked around the walls at all the photos while Nate drew out the picture on a thin sheet of paper while taking bites of his sub. Sam had never had any desire to get a tattoo and wasn't sure what to expect.

"So, how does this look?" Nate asked laying to paper above his heart where Sam could see.

"It has to be exact, no short cuts or changes. It's got to be a perfect match to the photo," Sam instructed him. He looked at the drawing and compared it to the photos he had taken.

"Only one other person has come to me for a tattoo like this and he said the same thing," Nate noted. "I can look it up, but wanna tell me why it's so special?"

Sam looked down at his clenched hands for a moment wondering if he should tell him the truth or not. He didn't know him, but some other hunter had trusted him to do the tattoo.

"Why don't you think about it while I work on it?" Nate asked. "Do you know anything about getting a tattoo?"

"Not really," Sam admits.

"Well, most people think it's painful, but it's more of an irritation or annoying poking. I'm going to clean your skin and dampen this so I can position it on the spot you want. You'll have to hold still while it transfers to your skin and then I'll fill it in. You want it in black, correct?"

"Yes, nothing else would really look right."

"Okay the easy part," he said. He pressed the paper to Sam's skin and smoothed it out being careful not to smudge it.

Sam felt the coldness on his skin and willed himself to remain still. He took slow even breaths and watched as Nate prepared the ink and gun to start.

"Do you want some music to listen to? It helps calm some people,"

"Sure," Sam agreed.

Nate reached over and flipped on the radio letting soft rock music fill the room. He checked the paper and carefully and peeled it off leaving the drawn tattoo exposed. "Do you need to use the restroom before I get started?"

"Yeah, might be a good idea," Sam nodded looking around.

"Through that door over there," Nate told him as he slipped on latex gloves to get ready. He pulled some sterile gauze from a pack and waited on Sam to return.

**spn**

The restroom was small but at least it was clean, Sam thought as turned on the light and closed the door. He looked at his chest in the mirror and studied the tattoo for any discrepancies but thought it looked right. His eyes drifted up to the face staring back at him and didn't recognize the person. He couldn't believe how much he had changed in the short period of time he had been held hostage. He had trimmed his beard and was glad he decided to keep it. He pushed a strand of hair from his face before turning to use the commode and ready himself for this experience. Once he had washed his hands and wiped his face, he went back out and sat down.

"Are you ready to begin?" Nate asked. "No second thoughts?"

"I'm ready," Sam nodded as he took a couple of slow breaths and stared at the hand drawn tats on the wall ahead of him. He felt Nate touching him and heard the humming of the gun and then the tiny prick of the needle as he started. The pain wasn't bad like he said, and Sam relaxed a little more. The more Nate worked Sam realized what it felt like.

He was taken back to his younger years as a kid and being left at Bobby's while his Dad went on a hunt. He had found a cat in the stacked cars that had kittens and he played with them. They were frightened of him at first and hissed and dug their claws in, but when they finally settled down, they began to knead his arm with their paws, digging their sharp, little claws in. They never broke the skin, but he had marks on his arm afterwards. The pressure was a little harder, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

Nate worked quickly and efficiently, being sure to copy the tattoo exactly like Sam wanted. He wiped the small beads of blood from his chest as he went and checked on Sam to be sure he was okay. He had not even flinched when he started and was staring at the wall ahead with a faraway look in his eyes. Nate was sure he was someplace else and didn't want to disturb him, so he kept quiet.

"Now where do you want these other two?" Nate asked as he smeared a thin layer of ointment over the tattoo and covered it with a pad he taped down.

Sam didn't answer for a moment until he realized the humming had stopped and looked at his chest. "Sorry, didn't hear you," he apologized.

"The other two symbols, where do you want them?"

"On my right bicep, one above the other," Sam answered using his left hand to show him. "This one on top."

Nate wiped the area down first and didn't bother with a making a copy since the symbols were simple.

"I'd say about an inch or so tall," Sam told him as Nate laid his cell on his chest where he could see the photo better.

"Got it, shouldn't take me much longer, you doing okay?"

"Yeah, like you said an annoying pricking, nothing I can't handle."

"Good, then let's get started on these." Nate had repositioned his chair and moved to the side of Sam. He measured his bicep with his eyes and picked the spot to start the first one. He started the gun again and dipped it into the ink and moved to Sam's arm. He made quick work of the two symbols curious to know what they meant but wasn't sure Sam would tell him if he asked.

"I'll give you a paper on how to take care of them and what to expect. My number is on there if you have any problems or questions after you leave."

"Thanks."

"Main thing is to be gentle with them. Keep them clean and use the lotion sparely applied every day until they are healed. It'll take about two to three weeks since these aren't large or colored. Whatever you do don't pick at or scratch them."

"Good to know."

"I'm almost done here, and you'll be ready to go," Nate said as he wiped the blood away and looked at the screen of the cell one more time before adding the finishing touches to the tattoo. He cut off the gun and smeared ointment before putting a pad on his arm and taping it down. Nate stripped off the gloves before getting up and going to a cabinet behind him. "I'm going to give you a sample Aquaphor Healing Ointment that you should use 2-3 days before switching to something like Lubriderm. You don't need much, just a thin coating. These are the instructions for care of the tats. Like I said if you have any questions you can call me."

"Thanks a bunch, how much do I owe you?" Sam asked accepting the papers and small tube of ointment.

"Since you had three done, I'll give you a little discount, call it a hundred bucks even."

"Alright," Sam agreed pulling money from his pocket and counting it out. "You wanted to know what the one on my chest is for…It's an anti-possession tattoo."

Nate paused in taking his money and looked at him to see if he was joking. He saw the seriousness in Sam's eyes and saw he wasn't. "Think you can send me that photo?" Nate asked.

"Be happy to," Sam replied looking at the phone number on the wall and sending the tat to Nate's cell. "Take care," Sam said as he walked out the door.

"You too Sam," Nate replied as he pulled the photo up on his phone and looked at it again.

Sam was pleased with his progress so far. He was now protected from being possessed again by a demon and had a little extra insurance with the other smaller tats on his arm. _One step at a time_, he thought.

One step at a time.

* * *

**A/N: Sam is taking precautions and starting to move forward. What next? He will be seeing his family in a couple more chapters, but it won't be what you expect. Thank you for taking the journey with me. Reviews would really make my day. NC**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: We find out some of Sam's plan now and where he is heading. Thank you for taking this journey with me. Only four chapters left in this story and we will continue with the second one, _Accept Me As I Am. _****I do like reviews, would help make the day brighter. NC**

**Chapter 16**

Sam looked in the mirror at the tattoo on his chest and smoothed a thin layer of ointment over it before taping a nonstick gauze pad in place. He wouldn't have to use the pads much longer but wanted to keep it clean and not let his shirts rub it. He did the same to the two on his arm but didn't cover them. If he wore a tee shirt, they were fine.

He had been searching the internet when he got back for a place to stay until he decided what he was going to do. His laundry had been brought back and he packed it so he would be ready to leave. Sam had found a cabin rental in a small town in West Virginia called Harrisville.

It was isolated and cheap since it was off season, plus it was less than eight hours away. He would take the train into West Virginia and the bus to Harrisville. He had made a reservation for a cabin and planned to leave the next morning. He had checked the train schedule and got a ticket to the closest town, Clarksburg, that the train stopped at. Once he got there, he would switch to a bus for the rest of the journey.

When he got to Harrisville, Sam was going to use the money Crowley left and look for a used vehicle. All he needed was something that ran well and searched used car lots for one. He didn't want to steal one if he could avoid it, but if there was no other choice, he would.

His bed had been made and fresh towels had been put out by the maid. He turned the bed down and slipped under the covers feeling their softness against his skin. It was so different to all the rundown, shabby motels he had stayed at with his father and brother growing up. Sam felt a little hot and hoped he wasn't getting sick. He felt his body shiver slightly before settling down.

What he wouldn't give to stay here longer, but he didn't see that as an option. He had stayed here longer than he probably should and knew it was time to move on. He let sleep pull him under and was lost in a sea of nothingness. His mind worked, while he slept.

**spn**

Sam gave the room one final look as he shouldered his bags and turned to leave. This had been a luxury that he could never have afforded on his own and he probably wouldn't have it again. He was going to walk to the train station to save on money since it wasn't that far, and his train wasn't leaving until ten am. Sam stopped by the desk to turn in his key card before heading out the front doors. The walk to the station was pleasant and he arrived in plenty of time. He stopped at a cart and got a coffee and found a place to sit while he waited. He watched the people coming and going wondering what their stories were.

It happened suddenly and caught him off guard when soft voices echoed in his head. Sam looked around not seeing anything out of place or any danger and stilled as he concentrated on the voices. A jumble of words had him frowning and shaking his head for a moment and looking around to be sure no one was paying attention to him. He heard snatches of words about, a job, family, hair appointment, kids being sick, and so many other random thoughts that his head started to hurt.

He drew in a couple of slow breaths and imagined a wall in his head that would stop the thoughts from bombarding him. It felt uncomfortable at first trying to build the wall and get it right where thoughts couldn't filter through, but he finally got the hang of it and added each brick until it was finished. Slowly they faded away and he was alone with his thoughts once again. Sam was glad he had skimmed some of the psychic abilities, so he knew about putting up a wall to stop other people's thoughts from leaking into his mind.

He didn't realize how much time had passed and got up to board his train when he heard the announcement. He found his seat and got settled as he puzzled over what he had experienced. The only explanation he could come up with was what the demons did to him was changing him more than he thought. Sam slumped down in the seat and started out to window letting that thought sink in and wondered what else was going to come out. How much more was he going to change?

It wasn't long before the train started and jerked slightly as it began to roll away from the station, slowly picking up speed. This was the first time he had ridden a train and it was different to him. The clacking sounds that the wheels made, and the slight jerking of the car gave him a different sensation than riding in the Impala. He watched the scenery passing by almost getting mesmerized by it. Sam coughed and cleared his throat when it felt scratchy.

"First time on a train?" a male voice asked from nearby.

Sam jerked slightly and looked around for the source seeing an older man looking at him with a smile on his face. He was grey headed and looked to be in his seventies or eighties, he wasn't sure. "Yes, I usually traveled by car."

"It's better than a bus at least," he chuckled. "Name's Virgil."

"Yeah, it is, Sam, nice to meet you. Doesn't look like anyone is sitting across from me, care to join me?" he offered.

"Why thank you young man, I'll take you up on that." Virgil carefully got up and allowed Sam to steady him as he moved to sit across from Sam. "Whew! I'm finding I'm not as steady as I used to be. Where are you heading?"

"Clarksburg, West Virginia and then by bus on to Harrisville," Sam told him. He could feel to goodness in the man's soul and found it easy to talk to him. "Where are you heading?"

"I'm going down to see my son and his family in Savannah, Georgia. I got a new granddaughter to see. She's number five now," he said proudly. "My daughter lives in Jacksonville and she's coming up with her brood for the weekend, so I get to see all my family. My wife passed away ten years ago, so it's a treat when I get to see them. My son has been on me to move down there to be closer, and I just might do that soon. I don't drive anymore and hate flying, so the train goes right there and it's a nice trip. Listen to me going on like this and not letting you talk at all."

"Well congratulations on the new granddaughter Virgil," Sam said. "And that's okay, I don't mind listening."

"Do you have family?"

"My father and a brother. My Mom died with I was a baby."

"I'm sorry to hear that Sam. Are you close to them?"

"My brother, yeah. Our Dad…" Sam trailed off, not wanting to remember his last conversation with his father as he looked away.

"I understand son, sometimes it's hard between a father and son. Even Trey and I had our moments over the years. I'm sure things will work out between you and him. Are you going on vacation?"

"You could say that," Sam said trying to be vague as he looked away. He couldn't tell him his true reasons for getting away, even though he wanted to. Sam would have loved someone to talk to, but that was not on the table. He rubbed his arms since they started feeling itchy and wondered what was going on with him. It was like he was coming down with something.

"That's okay Sam, I don't mean to be nosy. Do you live in New York?"

"No, Sioux Falls," Sam replied since that was the first thing that popped in his mind.

"You are a long way from home. Do you travel a lot?"

"I did, I've been all over the country. My Dad traveled for his work and Dean, my brother, and me went with him. We never really stayed in one place too long."

"That must have been hard on you when you were young Sam. My wife, Maggie and I did some traveling once I retired from the military. She tracked our travels and we made it to every state in the country, even Hawaii. We went there for out fiftieth wedding anniversary. It was a gift from the kids."

"Wow, how long were you married?"

"We were married at sixteen, high school sweethearts, we were, so madly in love," Virgil started, a faraway look in his eyes like he was remembering the past. "Our parents weren't too happy about it, but they couldn't stop us. I went in service at eighteen and stayed in for thirty years. Both our kids were born when I was stationed in Germany. I spent ten years there and the rest of my time I moved around here in the states until the last six years. Maggie and I got to see parts of the world we never would have seen. She didn't mind being a soldier's wife and moving around like we did. She was the love of my life and we had a fulfilling life together."

"She sounds like a wonderful woman Virgil."

"She was so strong, self-confident, caring, and giving person. No matter where we were stationed, Maggie always volunteered somewhere on base or in the community. She was an angel on earth."

"Guess it was hard losing her," Sam said.

"Yes, but she started preparing me for her death when we found out she had a brain tumor that they couldn't operate on. She beat the odds and lived a year past what the doctors estimated. During that time, she never showed despair or gave up or let me give up either. Maggie was a positive influence throughout the entire ordeal, and I know I would never have made it through that without her support," Virgil told him. He paused to wipe his eyes of the tears.

Sam blinked away his own tears as he listened to Virgil tell about his wife and their life together. He could tell he had loved her very much and still missed her. Sam was happy that he had family that cared and loved him and was still in his life. It made his heart ache for his own family and wished he could contact them but knew that wasn't an option right now.

He needed to understand what was happening to him and come to terms with that first before even thinking about doing that. He had to accept what he was becoming or deny it and figure out a way to move on from it. For now, he pushed it all deep into his mind to sort out later.

"Do you play cards Sam?" Virgil asked changing the subject.

"I've played a few times."

"I always carry a deck when I travel for something to do. Care to play a few hands?"

"Sure, fine with me," Sam nodded adjusting himself in his seat and moving a book he brought to read.

"Gin or Rummy or are you a poker man?" Virgil teased, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"I'm game for anything," Sam replied rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

**spn**

The train pulled into the station at Clarksburg and slowed to a stop. Sam got up to get his bags and turned to tell Virgil goodbye.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Virgil, and I enjoyed our talk and playing cards," Sam said shaking his hand. "It helped pass the time."

"It was a pleasure Sam and I hope things work out for you. You take care young man."

"I will and enjoy the rest of you trip and your visit with family."

"I will try. Maybe I will meet someone else to pass the time with for the rest of the journey."

Sam gave a last wave before moving down the aisle to step from the train and looked around trying to decide which way to go. He needed to find the bus station and see when the next bus was leaving for Harrisville. He stepped into the depot and found a map to use and found the nearest bus station heading down the street toward it.

The station wasn't busy when Sam entered and waited in line to be served. He got a bus ticket and went outside deciding to grab a sandwich from the shop nearby since his bus wasn't leaving for another hour and his stomach was protesting not being fed but a pack of crackers and bottle of water since that morning.

The bus he needed to take pulled into the depot on time and allowed passengers to get off and others to get on. Sam waited his turn and found a seat to himself and stowed his bags beside him since it wasn't crowded, and no one needed the seat. He looked out the window as the bus pulled from the station and got back on the road for the last leg of his trip.

The bus pulled into Harrisville and stopped at the station. Sam waited for everyone else to get off before taking his bags and following. He had seen several motels when they entered town and was going to walk down to one and get a room for the night. The walk wasn't bad, and he was ever alert with it being dark. He had his gun within easy access and didn't have any trouble along the way. He was lucky the demons didn't go through his bags and remove his weapons. He got a single room on the first floor and settled in for the night.

**spn**

Sam walked around the car lot looking at vehicles, trying to decide if any would suit his need. He wished Dean was there to look at the engine, but he was going to have to figure it out on his own. A blue Chevy Malibu caught his eye and he stepped over to look at it.

"Are you finding something to your liking?" a middle-aged man asked as he stepped up to Sam.

"Can I test drive this one?" Sam asked as he walked around the car. It was non-descript, light blue and seemed in good shape as far as he could tell.

"Of course, I'll get the keys and tag," he replied heading back to the office. He returned with a dealer's tag and keys, allowing Sam to unlock it and crank it.

Sam listened to the engine run, trying to detect any problems but mechanics wasn't his forte. He waited as the salesman got in before putting it into gear and pulling out. He drove it around the area for fifteen minutes before returning to the lot. He got out and opened the hood to check the engine.

"So, what did you think?"

"When was the last oil change?"

"It was changed, and everything was checked out when the car came in. I can tell you there was only one owner and I can run a car fax on it so you can check it out."

"That would be good," Sam replied going to the trunk to look inside. He looked at the tires and checked for tears in the upholstery.

"When you finish looking, if you'll join me inside, I'll have that pulled up for you," he told Sam.

"Alright, I'll be right in," Sam replied. He used his cell to look up the price for the car and compared it to what they were asking for it. Sam wiped his face when he broke out in a cold sweat. He felt like he needed something to drink but wanted to hold off until he was done here. He saw there was some room to bargain and headed for the office. Sam was prepared to deal with the salesman and try to get the price down as low as he could. He checked over the paperwork offered him and did some calculating in his head and asked the salesman to give him the best deal he could for the car, the very best deal.

He was surprised that the salesman didn't try to haggle with him or tell him he couldn't go any lower. He actually offered him a price that was a fourth of what the sticker price was and was going to throw in a voucher for a free tank of gas and car mats for the front. Sam quickly accepted the offer and counted out the money, knowing he was getting a great deal, and not questioning why the salesman seemed so cooperative and willing to lower the price willingly.

The paperwork was done, and Sam drove away in the car. His first stop was a gas station to use the gas voucher to fill it up and check the oil and tire pressure. He checked the directions to the cabin to see if there was a grocery store along the way so he could get some supplies and he wanted to pick up some Tylenol and cough drops in case he was getting sick. A sudden chill ran up his back and his shivered for a moment before trying to shake it off. Sam felt cold all over and zipped his jacket trying to get warm. He cranked the car and headed out wanting to get some supplies and to the cabin before he got any sicker.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, one day early, to everyone and hope you have nice day. We find out more about Sam and what he is doing. The next chapter will throw the brothers back together before Sam is ready, but he has to do it to save someone they love. I hope you enjoy the read. Reviews would make my day. NC**

* * *

**Chapter 17**

The cabin was set back from the road and didn't look like he had any neighbors for now. He pulled the car up to the side of the place and got out to look around. A lake sparkled through the trees and he saw signs for hiking trails further down the gravel road.

Sam went to the front door and unlocked it to go inside. He walked into a nice living room and could see a small kitchen that was sectioned off by a half wall/bookcase. To the right was a bedroom and bathroom and he found a small deck off the kitchen that had a couple of lounge chairs, a table and a small grill. Sam turned on the ceiling fans in the living room and bedroom and opened a couple of windows before going out to get the groceries and his things. When he needed more food, he could go to town which was forty-five minutes away. It was perfect for his needs. He was renting it by the week and would stay here until he worked things out for himself and felt comfortable contacting his family.

Once he had the food put away and his things unpacked in the bedroom, Sam wandered outside and found the trail down to the lake. He walked the winding trail downward until it opened out at a large lake with a dock that had several canoes beached near it. It was picture perfect and Sam enjoyed the view for a while before heading back to the cabin, deciding it was time for dinner. He fixed a small meal and ate it on the back deck.

As dusk approached, Sam went inside and decided to start his research. He was lucky there was internet here, if you wanted to use it. The cabin had no television but did have a radio that sat on the half wall/bookcase between the kitchen and living room. He settled on the couch and began to look for articles on different types of psychic powers.

He made detailed notes and bookmarked some articles for later reference. This was all foreign to him and he wasn't sure how to test himself to see what he might have. He knew he could see demons in their meatsuit and could kill the demon's soul. He had a feeling he could hear people's thoughts, if he allowed it, after his experience at the train station. Sam knew he could move things with his mind but hadn't really mastered it to be comfortable using it.

One article caught his attention and he read through it slower and then thought back to the car salesman and his eagerness to do what Sam wanted. This made him wonder if Sam had some influence over him then. It was called compelling, making people do what you want by speaking to them and some, with practice, could do it with their mind. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure he had unconsciously done that to the guy. It didn't cause him any harm that he could tell, and it did get him a car at a very cheap price.

He was going to have to be careful; he didn't want to take advantage of people by using his powers on them. Sam never knew there were so many different types and after a couple of hours, called it quits when his head started to hurt and went to bed. At first, he couldn't fall asleep because of a dull headache. He got up and found water and Tylenol to take, hoping it would ease his pain. His body was starting to ache, and he felt lousy. He tried not to think of his brother and wondered what he was doing. After thirty minutes, he was lulled to sleep by the sound of the outdoors.

**spn**

Sam woke the next morning running a fever and feeling chilled at the same time. He lay in bed as his stomach churned and he felt nauseous. His body ached so much he could hardly move. Sam wasn't sure what was going on with him and wondered if he had picked up some type of illness while he was being held in Hell. Or was it something else. He was finally able to get up and stumbled to the bathroom to fall by the commode as the dry heaves hit and bitter bile filled his mouth. He spit and coughed hard, trying to rid himself of the foul-tasting liquid.

His entire body trembled and sweat dripped down his face. He sat back on his bottom once he thought he was done, realizing he wasn't going to make it back to the bedroom. Sam's body slowly slid to the side and he curled up on the floor wishing his brother was here to take care of him. Dean would know what to do. He would make him feel better. Every muscle in his body was screaming for him to find his cell and call Dean to come help him, but he knew he couldn't do that.

"Dee…" Sam slurred in a choked sob. "Dee…" he cried his voice cracking as his body shook and he clutched his arms around himself.

Soft sobs escaped from his lips and he moved enough to snag a towel to lay his head on since he wasn't going anywhere. Sam floated in between consciousness and being unconscious until early afternoon, not moving from the bathroom floor.

He worked on getting up to get some water from the sink, since he felt dehydrated. After he downed several glasses of water, Sam gurgled loudly and spat out the water that came back up. With what little strength he had, he crawled back to the bedroom and pulled himself up into the bed just wishing the world would stop spinning or he would just die and get it over with. He fell into a restless sleep hoping to feel better when he woke.

Several hours later, Sam woke to rain pounding on the roof and got up carefully to close the window. He was weak and exhausted but felt some better. Thinking a shower might help, he made his way back to the bathroom and turned on the water before stripping out of his smelly clothes and stepping under the cool spray. He shampooed his hair and washed down his body before shutting off the water and drying off. His stomach rumbled and growled wanting to be fed, so he went into the bedroom to find some sleep clothes before heading to the kitchen to decide what might be easy on his stomach. He settled for crackers and a yogurt and sipped on a bottle of Gatorade.

Feeling some better, he wandered into the living room and sat by the window to watch it rain until darkness made it impossible to see. Sam mulled over what he went through and wondered if it had anything to do with the demon blood he was forced to drink. He knew the symptoms he had were similar to withdrawals for a drug user. They seemed to be going away and hoped that was all he would experience and would feel better in the morning.

He wanted to train and do more research but couldn't do neither in his present condition. Finally feeling that he could sleep, Sam headed back to the bedroom, opened his window again since the rain had almost stopped, and got under the covers, letting his body relax into the mattress. As his mind started drifting away, a familiar voice whispered in his ear, '_I got you Sammy_,' and tears filled his eyes before he finally let himself sleep.

**spn**

When morning came, Sam was woken by a new array of nature noises since he had left his window open through the night. He lay there listening to the sound trying to pick out the ones he knew. They were loud but comforting to him. Sam didn't feel as sick today and guessed he was over whatever he had the day before.

He looked over at the book laying on the nightstand by the bed and frowned as he concentrated on it and pictured it in his mind rising and coming to rest on the bed beside him. After a minute, the book shook slightly and rose slightly from the nightstand. Sam was surprised and lost his concentration making it drop back down. He huffed and tried again and this time it moved to the bed and he dropped it. He was pleased with the accomplishment, even if it was a small one.

He got up and changed clothes before heading into the kitchen for breakfast. Sam had decided to start a journal on his progress with these powers that he had. He wanted to track everything so he could reference back to it and what he could do hoping to better understand it all. This was so new and strange to him and Sam was concerned how others, especially his family, were going to see him when they learned about his powers. He planned on keeping them to himself as long as he could, knowing how hunters felt about psychics in general. Some would just as soon kill them, not thinking they were doing anything wrong.

Deciding a piece of fruit and yogurt would do for breakfast, he ate his meager meal and grabbed a water and power bar before heading out to check out the hiking trails. He chose an easy trail this time and followed it up the mountain to a ridge that overlooked the lake. It was breathtaking and he took a break long enough to eat his power bar and drink his water before heading back down.

Sam knew he needed to decide what to do about contacting Dean and their father, but right now he needed to get in the right head space. He still remembered what the demon had told him, that they didn't know he was missing and was not looking for him. He didn't know if it was true or not and it brought his mood down. He also wondered if his father would even care, John had told him don't bother coming back when he left for college and that still dug deep in his soul, causing pain and hurt.

He pushed those thoughts away and when he got back to the cabin, took his laptop outside and continued to study up on different psychic powers, how to access them, how to use them, and how to test for them. It was too much to take in at one time, so he decided to focus on the most common ones and work on them one at a time to see if he was able to do it. He knew it would take hard work on his part if he was going to master any of them and then thought, did he really want to do that? He already considered himself a freak with what he could do, would continuing down this path make _him a monster_?

**spn**

Sam showered and was going to turn in early since he was tired from the hike and from exercising his powers. He was finding out doing things mentally was as draining as doing things physically. After he showered and got into bed, he recorded the day in detail in his journal and planned for the next. Sam had always been the neat, list making, logical, analytical and a little OCD one between the two brothers. Once he had everything documented, he turned off the lamp and snuggled down between the covers, feeling more in control than he had since his nightmare had begun. He went to sleep thinking of his brother and wondering where he was and what hunt he might be on.

The following days went by quickly as Sam fell into a routine of hiking for a couple of hours in the early morning and researching and working on his powers the rest of the day. He would take time to eat and give himself at least a couple of hours to just relax and let his mind rest. If he started getting a headache, he would stop immediately, take something and rest. He pushed himself all the time, knowing he needed to be prepared if he found himself needing to use them. He worked on building his body back up again with exercises and jogging.

Azazel may have wanted him to use his powers for evil, but he was determined if he was cursed with them, he would use them for good and to help others. The powers themselves did not corrupt him, he was still Sam Winchester, and still had the same moral values and beliefs as before. He knew what was right and wrong and still had the underlying need to help others. Sam knew he wasn't the same person who left for college, but he could accept that. He just hoped others could too. This is the real me, he thought. This is who I am now and that could not be changed.

Sam was getting the hang of moving things with his mind. He worked on small objects and slowly increased the size and how long he could hold something with each attempt. He made himself work on it when he was hiking, moving things so it would be second nature to him. He didn't want to think about it when he needed to use the ability. He wanted it to be like second nature.

It took him a week to feel comfortable with the ability and tried to test his limits by trying to lift his car. He had to stop when a headache started, and he felt a wetness under his nose from a nosebleed, but the car did rise a couple of inches from the ground. He lost his hold and the car dropped back to the ground with a creak and groan. He looked the car over but didn't see any damage which he was happy about.

With that one more or less mastered, he moved on to another ability that he had found online. The next thing he tried was astral projection, releasing his spirit outside his body and traveling to another location. He worked on it for several hours but didn't seem to be making any progress. He couldn't seem to separate his mind from his body and didn't want to get discouraged so he moved on for now.

Not wanting to get frustrated with himself, he tried something that seemed simple, creating fire. By the time the evening of the fifth day of the second week rolled around, he could make a small flame in the palm of his hand and hold it for several minutes. He could toss it to something and catch it on fire. Sam was pleased with what he was learning to do on his own, but he felt guilty about not contacting his family, he wanted to see his brother, but still didn't feel like it was the right time.

It was hard not to reach out, but what would he tell them that would make sense. He was going to go to the office and pay for another week the following day. This was his life right now, one week at a time, one day at a time. His mind dwelled on this as he ate a small dinner and went to sit on the porch to read until it got too dark. There had been a shelf of books left there by previous renters to choose from and when he read, it calmed his mind of the racing thoughts that plagued him.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day. Since everyone has been so anxious for the brothers to get back together, I decided to post this chapter early as a thank you for reading my story and a treat for you. I hope you enjoy the read. Only two more chapters in this story and we'll move on to the next one that will pick up where this one leaves off. As I said in the beginning, this is a trilogy, so we have two more stories in this AU. Reviews would make my day. NC**

* * *

**Chapter 18**

The third week at the cabin had Sam working on astral projection for a second time. He found additional articles online and studied how to do it before trying the ability again. He went out on the deck and stretched out on a lounge chair to get comfortable. He worked on calming his breathing and relaxing his body before focusing on what he needed to do. This was a part of him now, he had accepted that, and he wanted to learn these abilities. He was opening himself up to them but would always keep control over them and never let them control him.

It was hard at first, but Sam wasn't going to give up yet. He was sure he could do this. Sam finally separated his spirit from his body and let it rise above his physical one. He looked down at his lifeless form and could barely tell he was breathing. It was weird and almost freaked him out but managed to keep control. Sam raised his hand to look at it and was amazed he could kind of see through it. His reading told him that once a person had full control of this ability, they could make their spirit more corporal.

He looked around and wasn't sure what to do. He looked toward the lake and willed himself to go to the dock. In an instance, Sam was on the dock looking out across the lake. He grinned broadly with his accomplishment, before sending himself back to the deck. He steadied himself before hovering over his body and letting his spirit sink back into it. It took a few minutes for his mind and body to sync back together and he opened his eyes to stare out into the woods. Sam was tired and felt slightly drained. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes deciding to nap outside before heading in to fix dinner.

His journal was filling up with all his notes and experiences. He filled another page before sitting it aside to turn in. Sam was getting up early the next morning and going on a longer hike up into the mountains behind the cabin. It was beautiful here and he wanted to enjoy as much of it as he could before he left. He had taken a day off the day before to go into town to do laundry and have lunch out.

He had opened his mind and listened to those around him until he started hearing a jumble of voices in his head. It was confusing and gave him a headache at first, until he was able to slowly block them out one at a time. Sam continued to practice as his clothes washed and worked on putting up his wall and taking it down. He wanted to be able to do it without thinking about it. He explored the town after his laundry was done and visited a used bookstore to see if he could find any books on psychic powers. He hoped maybe to find some additional reference books to help him learn more about these powers and how to control them.

**spn**

Sam had one more day left on the cabin for this week and he wasn't sure what to do. He had been here for four weeks and knew he had made the right choice to come here. Should he stay longer and work on his powers more or should he contact Dean or head for Bobby's. He knew he could always count on Bobby to help when he needed it, but he wasn't sure how he would feel with Sam showing up there and learning about what he was capable of. He listed the pros and cons of his choice trying to decide what would be right. He wanted to see his brother. He missed his support and just being with him. Sometimes Sam let his mind drift to that night he left for college and wondered what his life might have been if he had made it to college. He brushed it aside knowing that wasn't in the cards for him now. He had a feeling there were more important things that he had to do now. He had these powers for a reason, besides what Azazel had planned, and was going to do good with them.

He was finishing his lunch and was putting the dishes in the sink when a piercing pain shot through his head causing him to drop to the floor on his hands and knees. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his head as he cried out in pain. His mind began to waver and shimmer before an image started taking shape. It was his father.

_John was tied to an old door in a rundown house and two strangers were walking around him. His left shoulder was bleeding from some type of injury. Blood was welling up and running down the side of his face from a head wound. The female of the two stepped to him and was talking to him in a loud voice before she pulled a knife and drove it into his bicep making John cry out in pain. The male of the two laughed and dug his finger into John's shoulder making it bleed more. He pulled it out and licked the blood from it and urged the female to continue. She ripped John's shirt open and began to carve into his chest just deep enough to make it bleed so she could lick the blood from it. The male took two bowls putting one under each outstretched arm and slashed his wrists so the blood would drain into them. The life began to leave John as they continued to slash and stab him. The image grew farther away, and he hovered outside the house. The last thing it showed was a cemetery with an iron fence and the name St. Elizabeth Cemetery, Missouri._

Sam couldn't get his breath as the image of his father being killed was burned into his brain. He tried to get up from the floor but fell back down, too weak to stand. He lay there trying to calm his pounding heart and suck in mouths of much needed air so he could function. This was not a dream; he was sure of that. He was awake the whole time. It was like he was watching the scene play out in front of him, but he couldn't interfere or stop it. He knew it had to be an omen or maybe it was a vision that he had read about, and this was going to happen to his father if he didn't stop it.

After grabbing onto the counter, Sam was able to pull himself up onto shaky legs and stumble to his jacket where his cell phone was. He struggled to get it out and with trembling fingers pulled up his contact list. He found the number he wanted and tapped it, bringing the cell to his ear so he could hear. The one he called began to ring and he waited impatiently for someone to answer. When he got voicemail, Sam madly cursed, but waited for the beep, not wanting to waste any more time. He needed to leave now and head for Missouri. And he needed to get whatever help he could heading that way too.

"Dean, it's Sam. I know you've got questions, but I can't explain things right now. Dad's in serious trouble. I need you to meet me at St. Elizabeth, Missouri, at a cemetery named the same. It's below Jefferson City. Dad's life depends on it. I don't know how long we have. Please Dean, hurry," Sam begged as he hung up and tried another number.

"_There better be a damn good reason you have this cell number_," a gruff, male voice growled at him.

"Bobby, it's Sam, I need your help," Sam rushed out as he headed for the bedroom to throw his clothes in his duffle so he could leave.

"_Sam, son, is that really you?"_ Bobby questioned when he recognized the voice_. "Where have you been, yer brother has gone just 'bout crazy looking for you. We've all been worried about you."_

"I can't explain now Bobby, just listen. Dad's in serious trouble. He's going to die if we don't get to him. He's in St. Elizabeth, Missouri, at the cemetery. I think there might be a parish or abandoned house beside it. Can you meet me there?"

"_Of course, Sam. Did you call your brother?"_

"I left him a voicemail." His voice deflated and dull for a moment before continuing. "Please hurry Bobby, I'm packing and will be heading that way too, but it's going to take me ten to eleven hours to get there. Maybe less if I really push it."

"_I'm finishing a hunt in Wisconsin, so it may take me as long too. I'll try calling Dean and have him meet up with us. Maybe he's closer."_

"Thanks Bobby, I gotta go," Sam rushed hanging up and tossing the cell on the bed. He filled his duffle and grabbed his bathroom bag before moving to the living room for his laptop. He was lucky most of the food he had bought was gone and there wasn't much to pack but a couple boxes of granola bars, some fruit, waters, peanut butter, and a fourth of a loaf of bread. He put all he could in his cooler bag and the rest in a plastic bag. There were a few things he left for the next renter and hurried outside to put his things in the back seat. He did a quick sweep of the place to be sure he had everything before heading to the office to check out.

It was just after lunch when Sam made it to the main roads and headed west. His mind was reeling with the image of his father being butchered by what he thought might be ghouls. Sam hoped that what he saw hadn't happened yet and could stop it from happening. If not, they would be recovering their father's body.

**spn**

A cell ringing broke through his trance, but Dean didn't bother answering it. He didn't even look at the caller id as he switched it to voicemail. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone right now. Dean had taken care of a vengeful spirit and was trying to numb his sore body with booze. He motioned for the bartender to pour another shot as he slumped forward on the bar. It had been two months since he had found out Sam was MIA. He had started looking for him as soon as he found out Sam never made it to college. He was starting to get discouraged but he couldn't give up until he knew what happened.

A couple of hunters thought they saw him on the western side of Kansas two weeks ago, but when Dean went to check it out it had been a bust. He had followed up on several other leads that amounted to squat too. Bobby had all his contacts and resources searching, but no one had found anything. He had gone by the Roadhouse and talked to Ash and all he could tell him was a ticket was bought by Sam Winchester on the night he left for college, but it was never used.

He headed for Louisiana, as a last resort, to try hoodoo and voodoo priests, but they couldn't find him, even with location spells. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. He was beginning to wonder if Sam was still alive. Had someone attacked him and killed him while he was waiting at the bus station? Did some monster sniff him out and take him, thinking it would make others fear it, if they could take out a Winchester. There were so many scenarios that could have happened he didn't know what to do or where to turn next. Every lead or hint of his brother all turned out to be nothing and the guilt was eating away at him. He should have gone to the bus station sooner and maybe, just maybe, his brother would be okay.

The bartender sat another beer and shot of Jack Daniels in front of him, eyeing him closely. He had been drinking for a while even though it was early. Dean was in a lousy mood that had not gotten better with each drink. He had to believe his brother was still alive somewhere out there and to make matters worse, he couldn't get in touch with their father during all this mess. He had two missing family members to look for and things were looking dim.

His cell ran again, and Dean pulled it out seeing Bobby's name. "Bobby, tell me you have something for me," Dean said, hope lingering in his voice.

"_Why don't yer answer yer damn phone Dean. I just talked to Sam and he tried to call you,"_ he yelled at him.

"What? You're kidding me?" he questioned and pulled his cell away from his ear to look at it. He saw a missed call and a voicemail flag.

"_Dean, you there?"_

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"_Where are you?"_

"Lubbock, Texas. I just finished a hunt and was about to head out to come your way."

"_Get your ass to St. Elizabeth, Missouri. Sam is heading there now, and I'll be on my way in thirty minutes."_

"Why would Sam go there and where the hell has he been all this time? What is going on with him?"

"_No time for questions. He says yer Daddy's in trouble and is going to die if we don't get there in time."_

"Okay, I'm heading that way now," Dean said throwing bills on the bar and running for the door. Hearing his father could die sobered him up quickly. He punched his voicemail as he unlocked the Impala to drop into the driver's seat.

"_Dean, it's Sam. I know you've got questions, but I can't explain things right now. Dad's in serious trouble. I need you to meet me at St. Elizabeth, Missouri, at a cemetery named the same. It's below Jefferson City. Dad's life depends on it. I don't know how long we have. Please Dean, hurry_," his brother's voice played over his cell. Dean could hear the desperation and worry in Sam's voice and cursed himself for not answering the call. He hit redial and listened as the phone began to ring.

"_Dean?"_ a familiar male voice asked cautiously.

Dean couldn't stop the tears from filling his eyes as he heard his brother's voice for the first time since that night when he walked out the door of the motel room to go to college. He had to clear his throat of the lump in it so he could talk.

"Sammy? Is that really you?" Dean asked as he pulled out of the town and onto an interstate to head for Missouri.

"_Yeah, did you get my message? Are you on your way? When have you last talked to Dad? You've got to hurry,"_ Sam said in one breath.

Dean could hear panic in his tone as it got higher and rushed. "Yes, I'm on my way. I haven't talked to him but once or twice since you left that night to go to college. What happened to you these past months? What makes you think Dad's in trouble?"

"_I can't go into that right now. First, we need to save Dad, and then I'll explain. Meet me at St. Elizabeth, at the cemetery. I need to go so I can concentrate on driving,"_ Sam insisted. _"It's good to hear your voice Dean, I've missed you,_" he whispered in a softer voice that cracked at the end before disconnecting.

"You too Sammy," Dean replied as the call ended. He dropped his cell and wiped his blurry eyes so he could see. Sam was sounding very agitated and not like himself. Something must have happened to him when he went missing, but Dean had no idea what or how he would know Dad was in trouble. Had he talked to Dad in the past two months? Where had he been all this time and why didn't he try to contact him? There were too many unanswered questions for him to dwell on it and put all his focus on driving to meet Sam and Bobby. He pressed harder on the gas and felt the power of his Baby rev up as he sped down the interstate.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Getting close now guys, one more chapter for this story. I hope you enjoy the read and thank you for traveling with me. I hope you will join me on the next journey of this trilogy. Reviews would be awesome. NC**

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**Chapter 19**

Sam hung up from his brother and choked back the sobs as he wiped the tears from his face. There would be time for a reunion later. Right now, there were more pressing matters that needed taking care of. Sam had tried calling the last numbers he had for their father but none of them worked. This was discouraging in itself, but to hear Dean say he hadn't talked but a couple of times to him either made it all the more real to him.

It was not new that John would disappear off the radar for a time and then suddenly he was back. He would never tell them where he went or what he was doing. He was always too secretive about things he didn't want them to know about. Sam stowed away all his unreleased emotions and focused on driving and getting to his father.

Sam was only going to stop for gas and keep driving. This was too important to stop and rest, he could do that when this was all over and his Dad was safe. He didn't know who was going to get to the cemetery first and hoped they waited on him. He should have told them to since he knew where John would be. Maybe he'd send a text at his next stop to tell them to do that. He needed to go in first and stop the ghouls so Dean and Bobby could kill them. His mind was racing as he planned out the attack and worked out any problems he could foresee.

**spn**

Dean's mind was still reeling with the knowledge that his brother was alive, and he would be seeing him soon. He couldn't make sense of all that was happening. He had to stop after two hours of driving to fill the car and get an extra-large cup of coffee to keep him going. The effects of the liquor had worn off after the first thirty minutes, but he needed the caffeine for the jolt.

Sam had a lot of explaining to do, especially to him for putting him through hell these past months. If he had been taken by someone or something and gotten away, he couldn't understand why he didn't call him for help. He should have known that he didn't agree with what their father had said, and would no way disown him. Their life-long bond had grown stronger over the years, and he would never do anything to destroy that. No matter what had happened, Sam should have known Dean would be by his side and support him.

He had calculated it would be near midnight before he could get to this town Sam wanted him and Bobby to meet at. He had no idea why their father would be in a small town in Missouri. He didn't know if he was hunting a demon or some other monster in the area. He had called numerous times over the past month but had not gotten any response from him and that pissed him off more. He couldn't believe he hadn't called when he left messages about Sam being missing.

He was starting to wonder if what John told Sam when he left had been taken to heart. But he just couldn't see his father giving up on Sam and not caring about him. He knew how stubborn and hard-headed John could be and Sam was just like him and that was why they butted heads so much. It was all he could do to maintain the peace between them during their fights. Sometimes, he would just pack Sam in the Impala and separate them for a few days so they both could calm down. He did his best to stop the arguing from turning into physical fights and had succeeded most of the time.

**spn**

It was after eleven pm when Sam pulled into St. Elizabeth city limits. He stopped at a gas station to fill up and use the restroom and get directions to the cemetery. It didn't take him long and he followed the directions given by the cashier. He had to drive across town and pulled up to the gate of the cemetery and stopped. He got out and looked around and grabbed a flashlight he had picked up. Sam didn't have any weapons since getting back from hell, except for a knife that was in his duffle. He walked to the gate and let the light pan over the name in the wrought iron knowing this was the right place from his vision. He started to walk around the road looking for a house or structure but didn't see one. Sam didn't understand it. There had to be a reason he saw this cemetery and swore under his breath.

He started walking back to the car and saw headlights heading his way and heard the familiar rumble of the Impala. Sam faltered in his steps as he tried to prepare himself to see his brother again. He tensed with uncertainty, doubt, fear, and desire all rolled into one that made a shiver run up his spine. He wasn't sure he was ready for this meeting, but knew it needed to happen if they were going to save their Dad.

Dean had stopped at the first gas station in town to get directions so he wouldn't have to drive around looking for the cemetery. The lights of the Impala lit up a car parked at the gate and then he saw the shadow of someone walking toward it. He pulled the Impala over beside the other car and stopped, leaving the lights on so he could see.

Dean got out of the car and stepped around it and waited as his brother continued toward him only to stop three feet away. He couldn't make out much, but there was something different about Sam. Was it the way he carried himself, with more confidence and strength? Was it the haunted eyes he could barely make out? Was it his hesitation after not seeing each other for the past few months? He studied the beard he had now and finally spoke to him.

"Hiya Sammy," Dean said casually not wanting to make a scene or get into a fight right now. He could see the tension and stiffness of Sam's body and was surprised that Sam didn't initiate a hug or some contact with him since he was always the emotional one. Now that he found Sam, he wasn't letting him go, not this time.

"Good to see you too, Dean," Sam replied not sure if he should go to him or not. He was sure he would be pissed at him, so he stayed where he was clenching his hands into fists to stop his body from trembling. He darted his eyes upward to glance at Dean and quickly looked away feeling guilty and unsure of himself now that they were face to face.

"What happened to you dude? Why the hell didn't you call me?" Dean questioned, keeping his voice steady and calm. He couldn't stop himself as he took two steps to Sam and pulled him into a hug. He could feel the resistance from Sam and wouldn't let him see his face to see the hurt in his eyes. He knew it wouldn't do any good blowing up at him until he found out what had happened. He would take it one step at a time.

"That can wait, we need to find Dad or at least the place he will be taken to," Sam told him stiffening in his arms. He couldn't stop himself from doing it. He pulled away to continue talking, but thinking it felt so good to feel his brother's arms around him again. He had wanted that so much when he got out of hell but knew it couldn't happen until he found out who he really was. "I think he was taken by ghouls. So, can I borrow a gun?"

"Yeah, sure, and how do you know this? Have you talked to Dad?" he asked walking back to the trunk and opening it. He pulled out a handgun and handed it to Sam.

"No," Sam replied ignoring his questions. "We need to see if there's an abandoned house or building near the cemetery. I don't know if they have him already or not, but we've got to find the house and kill them." He turned to walk away and stopped to wait on Dean who grabbed a flashlight and turned off the lights of the Impala and locked her doors.

Dean followed his brother and kept quit, not asking the questions he wanted to. Sam had changed, he could feel it and it wasn't just the beard. They moved around the fence of the cemetery searching for any building that was near it.

"Is that something over there?" Dean asked when he saw the hint of a light through the trees to their right.

"Let's check it out. I need to go in first Dean," Sam stated as he moved into the trees not waiting to hear his argument.

"No, that's not going…" Dean started but was shocked when Sam rebutted him.

"I'm not asking bro, that's how it's going to be. Stay behind me," Sam ordered in a strong, hard voice, going quiet when he got close to the rundown house. There was a light on in one of the rooms, and Sam moved to the door and tried the knob to find it was locked. He focused on the door lock and opened it. He tried again and quietly pushed the door open stopping when it began to squeak. He was able to slip into the house and stopped long enough to get his bearings before moving in the shadows toward the sound of voices.

Dean wanted to protest Sam's order, but they were already at the house and he wanted to be quiet, plus, for some reason he felt he had to obey him. Dean didn't know why he felt like that suddenly, when he was always the one who went in first. He watched Sam try the door and then stopped for a moment and tried again pushing it open enough to get in. He followed him inside and heard several voices to their left and saw Sam did too.

Sam stepped into the room just as one of the ghouls was going to slit John's wrist and held up his hand to jerk the knife from his grasp. He threw both his arms out and threw one ghoul into a broken bookcase, holding him against the wall and the other into the opposite wall hard enough to crack the drywall. He held them in place as Dean hurried around him seeing the ghouls pinned to the walls.

"Head shots Dean, the only way to kill them," Sam growled through clenched teeth as he concentrated splitting his powers between the two. He started getting a dull ache behind his eyes and a thin trickle of blood dripped from his nose, but he didn't let up.

Dean fired two shots taking out the ghouls and turned aiming behind them when he heard noises heading his way. He jerked the gun up as Bobby rushed into the room with his gun drawn.

"Help me, we need to get Dad to the hospital," Sam demanded as he jerked his jacket off to take off his shirt. He tore a sleeve off and wrapped it around his head to stem the flow of blood and used the rest to press tightly against the wound in his chest.

"Cut the ties on his feet Dean," Bobby ordered him as he took care of the ones holding his arms. He jerked out a bandanna and wrapped it around the wound on his bicep. "You get his legs and we'll carry him to your car."

Dean did as he was told, his mind going into hyperdrive over what he just saw. Sam had disarmed the ghoul and thrown them against the walls without even touching them. And he was right about their Dad, if they hadn't got there when they did, he would be dead. He looked at his brother's concerned face with trepidation and saw the trickle of blood on Sam's face that he hadn't wiped away. Sam had a lot of explaining to do about a lot of things.

They got John to the Impala and into the back seat. He remained unconscious through the rescue.

"Follow me, I looked up where the hospital was and the quickest way there," Sam told Dean as he ran around to his car and got in.

Dean did the same and watched Bobby go to his car to follow them. He fell in behind Sam who sped out of the cemetery toward the road and took a hard right. He heard John groan out in pain and glanced in the back seat at him. He was pale and had lost a lot of blood and he didn't know what other injuries he might have. There was no time to check him out. Sam was driving fast and barely stopped at the red lights if he didn't see anything coming. Dean saw the signs for the hospital up ahead and followed Sam around to the emergency entrance.

Sam parked to the side of the entrance and jumped out and headed for the Impala when Dean screeched to a halt beside him. He went inside and yelled for help before coming back out to help get John out of the back seat and onto a gurney that was wheeled out by two orderlies.

John was moved to a curtained off area and the brothers were stopped from following. A nurse gave them some paperwork to fill out as a doctor was called down to check John. Sam watched the room as he stood nearby, too agitated to sit down. He watched nurses and doctors quickly going in and out before John was wheeled out of the room and taken toward a set of double doors.

"They're moving him," Sam stated wanting to follow but it said the area was restricted.

"They'll come tell us something shortly Sam, why don't you sit down?" Bobby asked him.

"Yeah Sammy, you're making me nervous; they'll take care of Dad," Dean added seeing how worked up Sam was getting.

"We had to be in time; he has to be alright. If only I had been closer when it happened," Sam mumbled to himself that had Dean and Bobby looking at each other wondering what he was talking about.

A nurse came out and headed toward them. "Are you with the gentleman that was just brought in?"

"Yes, we're his sons and this is our uncle," Sam answered before Dean could reply.

"He is being taken up to surgery to take care of his injuries. There is a waiting room on the second floor that you can wait in. The doctor will come out and talk to you when he's finished."

"Thanks," Sam said looking around for the elevators and spotting a sign in the back corner.

"Here you go," Dean said giving her the forms before following Sam.

"Is Sam okay?" Bobby whispered as they walked after Sam.

"I don't know Bobby, but something is definitely off about him. You should have seen what he did to those ghouls," Dean told him in a low voice.

"We need to be patient with him Dean. We don't know what he has been through these past months," Bobby cautioned him in a whisper. He didn't want Sam hearing them talking about him and possibly make things worse between them.

"I'll try, but I can't promise anything," Dean replied. "He's changed and I know you can see it too."

He could feel the anxiety and stress coming off Sam as they got on the elevator and headed up to the second floor. Sam didn't say anything to them on the ride up and stepped off before them, looking at the signs before heading left toward the waiting room. If it hadn't been for Sam, their Dad would be dead. He had saved his life, but how was the question.

Dean didn't take his eyes off his brother wondering if it was really him. He looked and sounded like his Sammy but was this really his brother or some carbon copy. He held his tongue for now, but Dean planned on getting answers out of him; he wanted to know what was going on with him.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Here we are at the end of this trip, but not the journey. I hope you will return for the second story to see what lays ahead for the brothers. Thank you for reading and thank you to any guests who left reviews that I can't personally thank. I do like to know your thoughts, please review. NC**

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**Chapter 20**

Bobby had made coffee for them with the supplies and coffee pot sitting on a counter in the waiting room and they sat quietly, drinking it and waiting on news about John. Dean kept glancing sideways at Sam watching him as he sipped his coffee. He seemed to be withdrawing into himself and nervous. He leg was bouncing slightly, and he kept rubbing his hand on his jeans. He knew that tic and knew Sam was worrying over something that he wasn't talking about. There were so many questions that needed to be answered but he didn't know where to start. He wouldn't look at either him or Bobby and only conversed with Bobby with a shake of his head or single monotone replies.

"Sammy why don't you go wash your hands?" Dean suggested when he saw they were covered in John's blood from where he doctored his injuries.

"Yeah, I should do that," Sam nodded absently, getting up and leaving to find the restrooms, glad to get away as he tried to sort his thoughts. He knew Dean saw him use his powers and knew he wanted answers.

"Bobby, should we test Sammy? Could that not be him?" Dean asked after Sam left.

"I put holy water in the coffee and touched him with silver and got no reaction to either," Bobby replied.

"Why won't he talk to us? What's going on with him? I mean he's been gone for two months without a word and suddenly he knows Dad is in danger and we have to save him…"

"I don't know Dean. That boy has always been tight lipped when he wanted to be. You know that Dean," Bobby said. He looked to Dean with worry and concern in his eyes and could see how lost he seemed. Dean had always been there for Sam growing up and could make things right, but this time he didn't think he could make whatever was wrong go away.

"Should I try to get him to talk to us?" Dean asked, not sure what to do for his brother. He felt his stomach clench and churn with tension because he wanted to ask Sam how he had done that to the ghouls. He didn't want to say anything to Bobby until he talked to Sam.

"Why don't we wait until we find out about John. Maybe when he sees he's going to be okay he'll open up to us on his own," Bobby suggested knowing it wouldn't do any good for either of them to add more stress to the situation.

Dean reached over and grabbed Sam's jacket and started searching the pockets.

"What are you doing?" Bobby asked.

"This," Dean replied as he pulled his cell out and opened it. "If he runs again, I'm going to have a way to track him. I'm turning on the GPS. I'm not taking any chances this time." He put the cell back into the jacket pocket and draped the jacket back where it had been. He had suffered enough this past month worrying about his brother, Dean wasn't going through that again. He was going to have a way to find him.

**spn**

Sam found the restroom below the waiting area and went in locking the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment taking a few deep breaths as the events unfolded in his mind again. _'They had got there in time, Dad was going to be okay'_, Sam whispered to no one, trying to convince himself of that. He pushed away from the door and turned on the water to warm. He pumped soap into his hands and ran them under the water, watching as John's blood washed away and went down the drain. He repeated the process, scrubbing hard, wanting to get every spot of blood off so he wouldn't be reminded of how close they came to losing him. He used the commode and rinsed his hands and splashed cold water on his face. Sam knew he needed to go back out there in case the doctor came with an update on John. He dried his face and hands and willed himself to stay calm. Neither Bobby nor Dean had questioned him yet, but he could tell Dean wasn't going to be able to hold back much longer. He wasn't sure what to tell them, if anything. Maybe he could slip away again, but that would be hard to explain now that he had come back.

**spn**

Dean looked up hopefully as the door opened, but Sam walked in and not the doctor. He looked at Dean for a moment seeing his facial expression dropped and went to the coffee pot to get another cup of coffee. Sam was riding high on caffeine right now and knew he was going to crash and burn before too long.

He had accidently caught part of Dean's thought and his disappointment he wasn't the doctor. He knew it wasn't thought of in a bad way and pushed it aside. Sam made his wall stronger so he wouldn't hear their thoughts, feeling it was wrong to invade their minds without permission. They were family and he knew it wouldn't be right. He couldn't sit still, and walked around the room, picking up a magazine only to toss it back down. He stared out the glass window, watching for someone to come their way, but it was quiet out there.

"Hey bro, why don't you sit? You've got to be exhausted too," Dean said. He looked at Sam pacing as could see the weariness on his face.

"Just wish the doc would tell us something," Sam mumbled dropping onto a chair and slumping down. His leg started bouncing with nerves until Dean reached and laid a warm hand on his thigh to stop it, making Sam jerk slightly with his touch. He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees as he wiped his hands down his face.

"Can I ask you something?" Dean questioned.

"I guess," Sam whispered not able to look him in the eye. He kept them downcast toward the floor.

"What's with the beard?"

Bobby looked at Dean, arching his eyebrows with the question wondering where that came from.

Sam frowned and looked up in surprise at Dean thinking that was the last question he thought he'd hear him ask. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could reply, Sam sensed someone in the hall and tensed, looking toward the door, waiting for the doctor to come in. He didn't notice Dean frowning at him before his attention was jerked to the door when a man dressed in scrubs came into the room.

"Winchester family?" the doctor questioned.

"Yes, we're his sons and this is his brother," Dean introduced them as they gathered around the doctor.

"How's our Dad?" Sam asked as he fidgeted beside Dean.

"I'm Dr. Marsh, I was your father's surgeon. Mr. Winchester is out of surgery, in recovery and is stable. The bullet didn't do any major damage and was removed. It's the head wound I'm worried about. He does have a concussion and we will be monitoring him for any bleed or swelling on the brain over the next seventy-two hours. The other injuries have been taken care of and I'm hopeful he'll make a full recovery. We did have to give him a transfusion for blood loss. There is always the chance of infection that we will keep an eye on, but I'd say he was very lucky. If the bullet had been a fraction to the left it would have injured his heart. He will be in the stepdown unit so we can monitor him closely. He will be taken for another MRI of the brain to keep a check on it," he explained.

"When can we see him?" Dean asked.

"Later, once he's taken to a room. I'll have a nurse come get you. I do need to let you know with a gunshot wound I have to report this to the police, so they may want to question you as to what happened."

Sam quickly stepped to the doctor and shook his hand as he spoke softly to him, moving him toward the door away from Dean and Bobby. It was low enough that neither Bobby nor Dean could hear him.

"Yes, I'll do that, no reason to bother the police with this matter, and nice to meet everyone. I will be coming by to check on Mr. Winchester later this afternoon," he told them before leaving.

"What did you say to him?" Dean asked unsure of what he had just seem Sam do.

"Nothing, I just wanted to be sure Dad was going to be okay," Sam lied not able to look Dean in the face. He busied himself with trying to find a magazine to read and didn't say anything else.

Dean looked at Bobby and could tell he didn't believe Sam either. There was really something very off about his brother and it was getting weirder by the minute. He couldn't believe this was happening, but he saw it with his own eyes.

"Did you do something to him? Why aren't you talking to us? Hell, where have you been for the past two months?" Dean asked his voice getting stronger with each word. "And what's with the damn beard?" he almost yelled at his brother.

Sam cringed with Dean's words knowing they were coming but couldn't help it. He knew they deserved answers, but he didn't think he could give it right now. "Can we talk about this after we see Dad? If he's up to it, I'll tell everyone at one time," he spoke softly and weakly.

"That sounds like a good idea Sam," Bobby said before Dean could say anything else. He glared at him to stop talking and got a loud huff as Dean slumped back in the chair to pout with his arms crossed over his chest.

Sam took a seat across from them, shrinking in on himself as he hugged his body tightly, but wouldn't look at Dean knowing he was pissed because he wouldn't answer his questions. He began to doubt his decision and wondered if it would be better not to answer them. Maybe he should just sneak away and disappear; leave them all behind. He was lost deep in his thoughts and didn't realize Dean and Bobby were watching him closely.

**spn**

The nurse led them down a hall and through double doors to the stepdown unit. She stopped in front of a room and turned to them. "He's still going to be in and out from the anesthesia, so don't be alarmed. You can only stay for a few minutes for now, but you can come back during visiting hours later this morning. There's a waiting room just down the hall if you want to use it. If you will clean your hands before going in please," she told them and pointed to the hand gel hanging on the wall.

"Thank you, we won't stay long," Bobby assured her.

They used the gel and Dean went in first, opening the door and stepping into the room. The light was dim, but he could see how fragile his father looked and took in the bandages on his head and shoulder and chest. He moved to the side of the bed and looked at him. His face was pale, and it looked like he hadn't shaved in a week.

"Dad?" Dean whispered to him as he squeezed his hand. "Can you hear me?"

Sam had moved to the other side of the bed and watched as Dean talked to him. He wasn't sure if John would even want him here after what he said that night he left for college. He watched warily as John began to stir.

"Hey, Dad, you're okay. You're in the hospital," Dean told him as he started to move and struggle. "It's okay."

John blinked his eyes and winced with pain when he tried to move. His head was pounding, and his vision was blurry. He raised a hand to wipe his eyes and struggled to focus on his son's voice.

"Dean?" he rasped out trying to wet his dry mouth.

"Hold on, sip on this," Dean said putting a straw to his lips. He let him have a few small swallows before taking it away. "Is that better?"

"What happened?" he asked keeping his attention on Dean and not noticing Sam yet.

"I guess a hunt went wrong. Sammy called that you were in trouble and we found you in Missouri. A couple of ghouls had you and were starting to carve you up for dinner."

"Sammy?" John questioned letting his head slowly roll the other way to see his youngest son standing back a little from the bed. To look at him, John would never have recognized him as his youngest son. The beard, he had a hardness about him now, and the haunted look of his eyes scared him. This was not the same person who he had fought with about going to college. His son was different now, he seemed older, worldly even, but there was a darkness about him too.

"Hey Dad," Sam said quietly and with uncertainty as he moved a little closer to the bed.

"I don't understand, no one knew where I was. How did you know?" John asked as he raised a hand to his head to feel the bandage there. He had a dull ache in his head and tried to remember what had happened to him. "I was checking on a number of missing persons there…I found…Can't think…." John grunted in frustration.

"We can talk about that later Dad, you need to rest," Sam told him. "You'll feel better in the morning."

"I will but there's something I need to tell you," John said looking to his sons. "The yellowed eyed demon is dead, not just exorcised, but dead." He leaned his head back and took a few slow breaths before looking back at Dean and Sam.

Dean looked at him in shock, as his mouth fell open and snapped shut as he swallowed hard before he could talk. "How? How did you kill it? I didn't think there was anything that could take this demon out."

"I was questioning a demon…." John stared but was interrupted by Sam.

"He didn't kill the demon, I did," Sam stated, his face showing no emotions as he spoke.

An eerie silence filled the room except for the constant hiss of the oxygen from the port on the wall that fed the line that was in John's nose. Sam knew he shouldn't have said it but couldn't stop himself. He let his barrier drop and was bombarded with the raw emotions from the others in the room. He stiffened, shuffled back slightly, squinted his eyes with the pain it caused, and sucked in a sharp breath. It was all he could do to control his own raw emotions as he tried to deal with the others. A tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it and he looked to each person.

Dean and Bobby looked at him not able to believe the words Sam had just spoken. John gasped in a sharp breath as what the demons had told him came back about the force that was able to kill Azazel and could have been King of Hell if it wanted to. He couldn't stop the horror that ran through his mind or showed on his face as he pulled away from his son. Could his son be the one the demons were afraid of, who they called the _Boy King_? Just thinking about it made his stomach roll and his head pound harder and took his breath away.

Dean looked between Sam and John knowing something was not being said here. How could Sam have killed the Demon their Dad had been searching for all this time? He didn't even want to hunt and had fought to get away from the life. He couldn't comprehend what could have changed with Sam that he could do that. Had he found some secret weapon to take him down? How had he known their Dad was in trouble if no one knew where he was? Doubt was filling his mind now, because he didn't know his little brother anymore. He couldn't stop the look of disbelief, denial and betrayal, that was plastered on his face as Sam stole a glance his way.

All Bobby could do was stand to the side and watch it all play out in front of him. It looked like Sam, sounded like Sam, and acted like Sam, but it wasn't the Sam he knew and thought of as an adopted son. He couldn't imagine what had happened to him these past two months to turn him into what he is now. He wanted more information so he could make a logical and rational decision about Sam. He needed the facts before he spoke his peace.

Sam saw it all, he saw the fear, the rejection, the uncertainty, the trepidation, the panic that was in John's mind. The last thought he heard was _'monster_.' When he looked at Dean's stricken face, Sam's heart broke because he could tell Dean was rejecting him too. But what broke him was one thought, _'Are you even my brother?'. _He could feel the intense stare from Bobby and didn't need to look at him to know he was thinking the same as the others.

He stepped back and hung his head, knowing he couldn't stay. He choked back a sob when he saw the way his father cringed from him and couldn't take the rejection. He knew they would never feel the same about him again, especially when they learned the whole true about what happened to him.

He skirted away from his brother as Dean stepped toward him and hurried out the door and through the double doors of the stepdown unit. Sam was panicking as his breaths were fast and raspy. He never heard Dean calling his name from the doorway of the room. He searched for a way out and finally saw the sign for stairs and pushed through the door. His boots clanged on the steps as he raced down them, wanting to put some distance between him and what was once his family.

Sam threw himself into his car, cranked it and pulled from the parking lot. Tears poured from his eyes and he madly wiped them away so he could see. He should have known this was how it would play out. He should have left as soon as they got John to the hospital and not put himself through this torture. None of them would ever accept him for what he had become.

This was the real Sam Winchester now with powers, able to kill demons with his mind, move objects with a thought, hear people's thoughts, step out of his body, and who knew what else. He was leaving the only family he knew, driving out of their lives for good because his Dad thought he was monster, his brother rejected him, and Bobby wasn't sure how to feel. He was alone now, and was going to have to face it, no matter how much it destroyed him.

He could feel the emptiness in his chest that was never going to go away.

**The End **

**TBC **_**Accept Me As I Am**_


End file.
